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SNOW ANGEL.- 






THE 


SNOW ANGEL: 

A TALE OF 

LIFE-LAND AND DREAM-LAND. 


BY ^y 

IKlfW'SFS’, 

Av. 



NEW YORK : 

PUBLISHED BY JAMES MILLER, 

522 BROADWAY. 


1867. 




Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1860, 

By JAMES MILLER, 

v 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for th« 
Southern District of New York. 


\ 


TO MY LITTLE NAME-CHILD, 


THIS 


BABY ANNA, 

STRANGE AND SIMPLE 

/* 

IS DEDICATED 

BY 


STORY 


GRANDMAMMA. 





PREFACE 


This story, dear young folks, was written for 
your entertainment during the war, now so happily 
closed; but, owing to unforeseen events, could not 
be presented to you until now. A preface is, I 
know, a very dull thing for little folks to read; but 
I am induced to write this because I think it will 
give you a greater interest in the story to learn 
that the scenes around Glen-Holme, and the sayings 
and doings of its inmates, are all real and true. 
From Mr. Vane down to Old Sledge, all the Life- 
Land characters of the story are living, except 
one, a brave young officer, the first-born son of 
General Germaine, who died from the effects of a 
wound and disease, contracted whilst he was bat- 
tling for the preservation of his country. Sweetly 
and softly sank the gallant young soldier to rest, 
after the din of the terrific war was over — well 
satisfied that the victory for which his life was 


6 PREFACE. 

offered was won, well content to die in the blissful 
hope of a better and higher victory over death and 
the grave. 

Of course, dear young folks, you will all under- 
stand the Dream-Land part. I will not offend your 
judgment and imagination by doubting that. It 
would be too much like a certain rustic artist, who 
once drew the portrait of a cat, and wrote in large 
letters under it, This is a Cat, if I were to go and 
dissect the story and explain it all away. There- 
fore, accept it with its idealities ; never doubt its 
facts, and believe that the characters who figure in 
it still live to console and comfort each other, 
by the continuance of that friendship which was 
cemented at Glen-Holme. Only their names are 
fictitious. 

Should you like The Snow-Angel, and let me know 
through my good friend, Mr. Miller, I can promise 
you another quite as interesting from my old brown 
portfolio. 

Frigida Knutt. 

Washington. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Glen-Holme and its Inmates 9 

CHAPTER II. 

The Snow- Angel * 37 

CHAPTER III. 

The Ghost 61 

CHAPTER IV. 

All for the want of Snow 82 

CHAPTER Y. 

Christmas Day 109 

CHAPTER VI. 

The. Menagerie. — Evening Entertainments 137 

CHAPTER VII. 

Effie’s Flight with the Snow- Angel 164 




8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

What the Snow- Angel and Effie saw 180 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Indian Witch’s Cave and the Maiden 19? 

CHAPTER X. 

How the Crow rescued them. — The Old Saga 206 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Midnight Sun. — The Snow-King’s Palace 222 

CHAPTER XIL 

Hilda and Vidda. — The Snow-King, and all that he 
did : 289 

CONCLUSION. 

How it was 256 


» 


SNOW ANGEL. 


CHAPTER I. 

GLEN-HOLME AND ITS INMATES. 

Come to Glen-Holme with me, little friends. 
The road thither winds np around the hill- 
side, and we have to climb until we reach the 
very hall-door. Tired enough we are now that 
we are there, so let us walk right into the spa- 
cious and handsome parlor, where a lady in 
deep mourning sits reading a newspaper. Her 
countenance is pale and sad, but expressive of 
a feeling of painful interest; and no wonder, 
for she is reading a stirring account of the fa- 
mous and bloody battle of Antietam. Our 
entrance will not in the least disturb her, for 
we are supposed to wear, caps of invisibility. 


10 


SNOW ANGEL. 


A bright wood-fire blazes and crackles on the 
marble hearth, for although it is the Indian 
summer-time, the mornings and evenings at 
Glen-Holme are very chilly. A flower-stand, 
filled with choice plants, stands before the 
large western French window, which is draped 
with clouds of white lace, rich with curious 
embroidery. Pictures adorn the walls. Every 
thing is well arranged and exceedingly com- 
fortable in the Glen-Holme parlor. The ruddy 
fire, the crimson carpet and soft cushions, sug- 
gest agreeable and cheerful thoughts. At the 
east end of the room an oriel window opens to 
the floor, and standing at it, with her face 
pressed closely up against the glass, is a little 
girl clad in deep mourning, wdio is watching 
something without, with eager interest. In a 
corner near her'un a large cage, swings a gray 
African parrot, muttering wrathfully to himself 
in a lingo caught from the Mahrattas, in his 
native land. In the sunshine, that streams 
like a glory through the window, hangs, a wire 
cage, in which flutters a canary ; flutters and 
whistles, as he plunges into his porcelain bath- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


11 


tub, and flings the sparkling water abroad like 
spray, most of which falls on the head of 
“Willie,” the parrot, and enrages him. Not 
only on the gray ruffled pow of Willie, but also 
on the black, glossy hair of the little maiden 
who stands at the window amidst the sunshine, 
looking wistfully down into the wild glen be- 
low. Her name is Effie Y arney, and she is the 
youngest daughter of the lady who sits read- 
ing the morning paper beside the fire. The 
child’s black eyes, rosy cheeks, and red lips 
are all as bright and glowing as the sunlit 
stream sweeping over the rocks below ; and 
the crimson and russet leaves that flutter down 
from the high tree-tops, like girls with gayly- 
painted wings. Flutter and drop, quivering 
through the air from tree-tops all aglow with 
foliage of red, orange, green, and brown, which 
the Indian - summer sun, shining* through a 
golden mist, has crowned with a glory exceed- 
ingly beautiful to see. 

“ Stop that, you Daisy !” exclaimed Effie, 
laughing, and looking up, as the canary sent a 
shower of spray over her face; “stop, you 


12 


SNOW ANGEL. 


toad, and sprinkle Willie ; he’s as mad as mad 
can be, and needs cooling.” 

But the canary has completed his bath, and 
with a saucy chirp hops upon his perch and 
begins to warble and trill, quite indifferent to 
the parrot’s rage and the chiding of Effie, who 
has turned away, and is again gazing down 
into the beautiful glen. Suddenly she clapped 
her hands, and said cheerily, “One — two — 
three — four ! there, now ! I do wish the wind 
would leave them, clinging to the boughs like 
wild-flowers! They look beautiful up there; 
and I like, too, to see them skurrying down as 
if they were chasing each other ; only they 
scare off the ground-squirrels — poor little 
things ! — who come out to sun themselves on 
the lichens and mosses. Only think, mamma 
dear : one poor little fellow, after being scared 
out of his wits by a crowd of red leaves that 
fluttered down right on his back, scampered 
up among the rocks and stretched himself on 
a warm lichen, when, just as he got comfort- 
ably settled, down rattled a hickory-nut plump 
on his head, and he rolled over and over, then 


SNOW ANGEL. 


13 


ran fit to break his neck home to his mammy. 
Now just look here, mamma — ” Effie turned 
to appeal to her mamma, but Mrs. Yarney had 
left the room some minutes before, so intent 
on the thrilling descriptions of the battle as to 
have forgotten Effie’$ presence. 

“ Heigh-ho ! it’s too still here for me. I 
can’t stand it another minute ; and I’ll just gov 
right off and get Ida, and Hal, and Dody, and 
we’ll have a grand play in the glen before les- 
son-time,” said Effie, as she danced down the 
room, and waltzed out of the door. I don’t 
believe she could have walked, if she had tried. 
She was never still except when she was say- 
ing her prayers. Even when she would be 
studying her lessons she would wriggle and 
twirl, and every now and then give herself a 
shake, as if to settle the knowledge she was 
gaining in her brain. She was irrepressible, 
and did every thing with her whole heart and 
soul. She played, she studied, she sewed for 
her dolls, she laughed, sang, and scolded, all in 
the same hearty way. It was terrible some- 
times to Mrs. Yarney, who was much out of 
2 


14 


SNOW ANGEL. 


health; but there was no help for it — it was 
the child’s nature, and her mamma hoped that 
she would become more gentle as she grew 
older ; besides this, she knew that Effie was a 
truthful and good-principled child, who feared 
to do wrong, because she knew that all wrong 
is offensive to God; so she was very patient 
with her little troublesome ways. 

Effie’s father had been dead some months, 
and her mamma, accompanied by Clare — who 
was a young lady grown, and her eldest daugh- 
ter — and little Effie, had retired from Wash- 
ington to the seclusion of the beautiful and 
romantic village of Winona, in Southern Mary- 
land, where she was soon afterwards joined by 
a friend — Mrs. Germaine — whose husband, a 
great general, was away fighting the battles of 
his country. This lady — Mrs. Germaine — was 
the mother of Ida, Hal, and Body, and they 
were all living together in the family of a 
minister, who, finding the house at Glen- 
Holme much too large and lonely for himself 
and gentle young wife, was so good as to 
rent a portion of it to Mrs. Germaine and Mrs. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


15 


Varney, and they were all very happy there 
together. 

The young minister loved little children, and 
won their confidence by encouraging their in- 
nocent sports and cheerful prattle, even while 
he led their thoughts to God. It was a good 
thing to see them clustered around him in the 
bright lamp-light, laughing and chattering like 
magpies, talking to him about their boats, their 
dolls, their bows and arrows, their tops, puz- 
zles, kitten, and a pet chicken belonging to 
Effie ; while his fine face, which was full of 
frank, open-hearted kindness, turned first to- 
wards one and then the other, listening pa- 
tiently, and answering all their quaint ques- 
tions with a droll twinkle in his eye, which 
sometimes gave them a sly notion that he was 
laughing at them. 

The rest of the family consisted of a tall, 
good-humored colored woman, who had nursed 
her mistress, Mrs. Vane, when she was left to 
her care, years before, by her dying mother, 
and who had clung faithfully to her, serving 
her with rare fidelity through her helpless 


16 


SNOW ANGEL. 


childhood, up to the present time. It was a 
proud day for her when she saw “her child,” 
standing at the altar in her pure bridal robes, 
plighting her vows to Mr. Vane, who had been 
ordained but a short time before. Her name 
was Lydia, but that was long since merged 
into the more affectionate appellative of 
“Maumy.” Besides Maumy, there was the 
cook, an old-timed family servant ; two dogs, 
called Tip and Dixie ; Mrs. Varney’s maid, a 
nice brown girl of sixteen ; the groom ; and a 
very sober-looking bay horse, whom the chil- 
dren called “Old Sledge.” 

No^. little friends, having introduced you to 
the family of Glen-Holme, I must draw you a 
picture of its surroundings, and beg that you 
will be patient while I do so, for the strange 
and remarkable story of the “Snow Angel” is 
so interwoven with those scenes, that, to un- 
derstand one, you must be familiar with the 
other. Glen-Holme, then, is situate in the 
plateau of a high and picturesque hill, which 
slopes down in brakes and dingles to the 
banks of a narrow river, whose waters go 


SNOW ANGEL. 


17 


surging and dashing over the rocks, through 
the very midst of Winona, with a roar that 
shakes the windows for a mile around. Be- 
yond the turbulent stream and quaint village 
hill after hill arises, one above the other, cov- 
ered with small plantations of beautiful trees, 
handsome country-seats, and farm-houses sur- 
rounded by broad, fertile acres and terraced 
gardens, while the topmost ridges, behind 
which the sun goes down, are fringed with 
grand old forest-trees and patches of cultivated 
ground, where trees and corn wave together 
against the sky. All this fine view stretches 
out in front of Glen-Holme. Back o|^t, the 
scene is very different. A declivity goes steep- 
ly and abruptly down from the portico, into a 
deep, romantic glen, through whose midst a 
rivulet dashes in sparkling cascades over mossy 
rocks. Beautiful and lofty trees of hickory, 
the native poplar, oak, and dogwood cluster 
thickly on the steep hillsides which form the 
Glen, and beneath their shade grotesque piles 
of granite, covered with every variety of moss 
and lichen, are scattered and grouped. Oh, 
2 * 


18 


SNOW ANGEL. 


the jubilee of birds and rivulet that swell and 
tinkle together up the hillsides ! the birds ha- 
ha-ing and sounding their clarions from the 
tree-tops ; the rivulet, like a gay belle glitter- 
ing in jewels, singing its merry waltzes, as it 
spins lightly over the gray rocks, dancing 
down through the mossy bottoms ; through 
grasses lush with moisture; through pasture 
folds still rich with verdure, and under thickets 
where, in the spring-time, the blue-eyed vio- 
lets and the “Star of Bethlehem” first bloom. 

In addition to the attractions of the place, 
the minister has swung between two old trees 
on the^brow of the hill, just where there is a 
more gentle slope than elsewhere into the 
Glen, an African hammock, such as the Afri- 
can kings sleep in, and thither the children de- 
light to go and swing when let loose from their 
daily tasks. And it is all the better, they 
think, when Miss Varney can be coaxed to go 
out with them ; for not only is impartial justice 
administered as to the number of swings each 
one is to get, but merriment and fun wax high, 
and the quiet inmates of Glen-Holme feel as- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


19 


sured, as tlie clear peals of laughter ring out 
upon the air, that peace reigns among the 
little ones. Ida and Effie sometimes treat 
their dolls to a swing in the hammock, and oc- 
casionally to an excursion in the Glen, where 
they keep house under the rocks, watched 
shyly by the ground-squirrels, whose rightful 
domain it is, and whose little round eyes shine 
out from the crevices in their dark abodes like 
sparks of fire. 

If you remember, friends, Effie found herself 
very lonely in the parlor, and left it in great 
haste to go in search of the little Germaines, 
but she could find none of them except Ida ; 
“Hal and Dody,” Maumy informed them, “was 
done gone over the hill with Tip and -Dixie, 
and if they all didn’t break their necks together 
it would be a mercy.” With this satisfactory 
information, the little girls gathered up their 
dolls, their housekeeping furniture, and last, 
though not least, their luncheon, and went 
down to their favorite haunt under a great 
overhanging rock, where the velvety mosses 
cling in rich folds adown its sides. Effie had 


20 


SNOW ANGEL. 


brought her mamma’s little hearth-broom, and 
they swept the floor of their grotto, and in a 
short time had arranged every thing in the nicest 
order ; but after playing putting their house to 
rights, they thought it would be nice to have a 
pic-nic for their dolls ; so they gathered up all 
that they needed, and selected a flat rock near 
their castle, which was nicely covered with 
lichens, and above which outspread a hand- 
some tree, from whose boughs hung trailing 
vines of the crimson trumpet-flower. The dolls 
were seated in a mossy nook, with their tiny 
work-baskets on their knee, and were sup- 
posed to be engaged in crochet, and em- 
broidery, and instructive conversation, while 
Ida and Effie busied themselves in tastefully 
arranging the banquet. Just at their feet the 
rivulet whirled, foamed, and danced around 
the rocks, as if in a perfect delirium of fun, 
and Effie struck up and sang a merry little lay, 
which sounded very sweetly, with its rushing 
and tinkling music. Presently, quite out of 
breath, she said, “ Ida, I’ll tell you something 
which is very strange.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


21 


“ What is it, Effie ?” asked Ida, gravely, as 
she broke up a stick of candy. 

“ I don’t know — I’ll cut the oranges — but I 
think h’s a ghost. Maumy says it is.” 

“ Ghost, indeed ! Who ever saw a ghost ? 
I hope there are no ghosts at Glen-Holme. 
Who saw it ?” 

“ Well, nobody saw a ghost, but there comes 
the oddest rapping around mamma’s room 
sometimes.” 

“ It’s nothing under the sun but the win- 
dows rattling,” said incredulous Ida. “ We 
hear that constantly, and Mr. Vane says it is 
caused by the water fading over all these 
rocks ; and the mill-dams.” 

“ No, it is not. Mamma says it is not, for 
she has to put wedges in her windows every 
night to keep them from drumming,” cried 
Effie, exultingly. “ I heard Mr. and Mrs. 
Vane, and all of them, talking in our room last 
night about it, and in the midst of it there 
came a bouncing rap under the floor, just as if 
some one had done it with their knuckles. 
None of them knew what to make of it, and 


22 


I 

SNOW ANGEL. 


Maumy and Fan are afraid to go up and down 
stairs by themselves at night,” replied Effie, 
stoutly. 

“ I hope that you’ll keep your ghost to your- 
self, Effie — I’m sure I should be scared out of 
my wits,” laughed Ida. “ Where are the 
cakes ? Oh, here they are. Just look at the 
squirrels, Effie. I think there must be at least 
fifty of them.” 

“ Don’t let us scare them, and maybe when 
we get more used to them they’ll come out and 
play with us,” said Effie, gently. 

“ Oh, Effie, maybe they are fairies?”* sug- 
gested Ida. 

“ Maybe they are,” said Effie, gravely. “ Don’t 
let us hurt or scare them. Let us leave some 
cake and biscuit for them, and make believe to 
spread the table for them, just down there in 
the moss.” 

“ Oh, yes, that will be nice ; and if they are 
polite fairies, they will invite the birds. I’d 
like that, only the robins are so greedy, they’d 
gobble every thing up. Don’t let us tell Hal 
and Dody ; but, oh me, Effie ! there they come 


SNOW ANGEL. 


23 


now, and Tip and Dixie with them. Now our 
fun is over; I wish they had not found us out,” 
exclaimed Ida, quite in a flutter, as she began 
to gather the feast together for safe-keeping. 

Sure enough, there they were, on the top of 
the hill, just above the peaceful pic-nic party, 
which they had discovered, with a shout of de- 
light ; and, never dreaming but that they were 
welcome, they prepared to join it, when, owing 
to some slip or misstep, they all fell together 
on the steep hillside, and came rolling, shout- 
ing, laughing, and barking together, boys and 
dogs, never stopping until they were launched 
right into the midst of the pic-nic arrange- 
ments. Head over heels they came, upsetting 
the dolls ignominiously, scattering the furni- 
ture, and spinning the feast into the rivulet. 
Effie and Ida barely escaped being knocked 
over by springing on a rock out of the way ; 
the ground-squirrels scampered back to their 
burrows ; the birds fluttered up to the highest 
tree-tops ; and the two girls, their faces flushed 
with anger, stood on their rock of refuge, 
scolding like two enraged magpies. 


24 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ Let’s go and shake them both, Ida !” said 
Effie, with a determined air, “ and whip Tip 
and Dixie. I expect our dolls’ noses' are 
mashed flat.” 

“SodoL Let’s go right after them. Here’s 
a stick for you, and here’s another for me,” 
responded Ida. 

The council of war was short and decided, 
and they advanced in line of battle on the in- 
vaders, whose triumph was shortlived; for, 
seeing the uplifted sticks of the swiftly coming 
foe, they started at double-quick up the hill, 
the dogs covering the retreat, while their 
shouts of laughter only served to urge on their 
pursuers to greater exertions. But the boys 
had the best of the position, and at last, with a 
wild hurra of mirth and defiance, they made a 
sudden detour through the woods, and es- 
caped. After having routed the invaders 
of their place, Effie and Ida returned to ga- 
ther up their dolls, which had escaped all 
injury, to the great delight of their own- 
ers, and collect the fragments of the feast, 
and their furniture ; after which, they re- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


25 


turned soberly home, full of indignation' at 
their wrongs. 

It was nearly dinner-time, and the minister, 
Mrs. Yane, and Mrs. Germaine, were in the 
dining-room, conversing about a pleasant book 
which Mrs. Yarney had been reading aloud to 
them, when the two girls, with flushed cheeks, 
sparkling eyes, and angry countenances, came 
in, and, made eloquent by their wrongs, poured 
out with great earnestness the history of their 
adventures in the Glen. Mr. Yane and Mrs. 
Germaine laughed at the catastrophe ; they had 
tried to look grave, but broke down, upon which 
Effie pouted, and Ida, getting red, said reproach- 
fully, “You mightn’t laugh at us, any how.” 

“Here they come now, dogs and all,” said 
Effie, bridling up, while her eyes emitted flashes 
of indignation. Sure enough, in dashed the 
boys and dogs, and were about rushing pell- 
mell into the dining-room, when the minister 
met them at the door, and fixing his eyes 
gravely on them, said, “Hold up there, sirs. 
What is this mischief that you have all been 
doing in the Glen ?” 


3 


26 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ We didn’t go to do any thing — eh — eh — 
look here, Mr. Yane : Dody and I — eh — was 
a-running with Tip and Dixie out there where 
— eh — it is so steep, and — and — ” exclaimed 
Hal, out of breath. 

“ The truth now, Hal,” said Mr. Vane. 

“ And ” — continued Hal, his face flushing up 
— “ and our feet slipped — eh — on the dry 
leaves, Mr. Yane, and Dody — eh — and I went 
a-rolling — eh — and Tip and Dixie too, and — eh 
— we all came rolling together, and — eh — didn’t 
know "where we were agoing until we — eh — 
went right head over heels into the baby-house. 
Didn’t we, Dody ?” 

“ Yes, we did so, Mr. Yane ; and Tip took 
hold of my ear, and held on to it all the way 
down, and it hurt me — it did so,” said Dody, 
with a solemn look on his broad, good-humored 
face. There was a burst of laughter, in which 
Effie and Ida condescended to join. Dody’s 
ear was examined, and sure enough there were 
the prints of Tip’s teeth, and Effie said, “ Poor 
little Dode !” and reached round and pinched 
his other ear. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


27 


“ There, now,” said Mrs. Germaine, “ I knew, 
Ida, that the poor little fellows did not mean 
to break up your play. Boys and girls are so 
different in their dispositions that they don’t 
know how to play alike. You must never mind 
a thing unless harm is meant.” 

“ Dinner will be in presently, little folks,” 
said gentle Mrs. Yane. “ Kun up-stairs and 
see if there’s water in the pitchers and brushes 
on the toilet-tables.” They understood the 
hint, and were going out good-humoredly, 
when Mrs. Yarney called to Effie, saying, 
“ You will make up the morning’s loss, Effie, 
this afternoon. Lessons must not be ne- 
glected.” Lessons! Until that moment all 
hands had forgotten lessons, and they could say 
nothing bu^ “ Oh,” and “ Oh, oh,’* and make eyes 
at each other, as they huddled themselves to- 
gether out of the door, forgetful of all disasters, 
in their confusion. But presently they came 
back looking as bright as new steel buttons, and 
so good and innocent that the minister’s heart 
was touched, and while he invoked the bless- 
ing of Heaven on its bounties, he silently 


28 


SNOW ANGEL. 


thanked God in his heart for brightening up 
the ways of life with the innocence of little 
children. 

The bright, beautiful afternoon, filled with 
the songs of birds, the rustle of leaves, and 
the tinkling of the rivulet, and made brighter 
by the golden-winged butterflies that floated 
everywhere, was spent in-doors, over books 
and slates. They were patient, though, and 
got through in time to have a chase on the 
lawn, over which the golden rays of the setting 
sun slanted in tremulous brightness, and where 
the great trees made long shadows on the 
sward. 

Then came tea-time, and a circle of happy 
faces surrounded the table, each one having 
some pleasant remark or cheerful word to add 
a charm to the hour. “ Maumy ” always waited 
on the table, and managed every thing behind 
her mistress’s chair. Soon after the family sat 
down to tea, a gentleman came in to pay an 
evening visit, and was invited very cordially to 
take a seat at the table, which he did. After 
the little bustle was over, Maumy bridled up 


SNOW ANGEL. 


29 


behind Mrs. Yane’s chair, and said in an un- 
dertone, which could not be distinguished or 
understood above the hum of conversation that 
was going on : “ Miss Clara, why don’t you ax 
the gentleman to have coffee ? You axed him 
to take tea, and I just see him make a face 
at it.” 

“ Excuse me, Mr. Randal, for not having 
asked you to take coffee. Perhaps you prefer 
it?” said gentle Mrs. Yane, quite shocked at 
her omission. 

“Thank you, madam, if it is no trouble I 
will take coffee. Tea’s poor stuff to an old 
coffee-drinker like myself,” replied Mr. Randal. 

“Didn’t I tell you so, Miss Clara?” muttered 
Maumy, leaning slyly between Mrs. Yane and 
Miss Yarney, who had a quiet laugh, unseen 
by the rest, at Maumy’s tactics. A pleasant 
conversation was going on at the table to which 
the children were listening, when Mrs. Yane 
suggested to Maumy to hand the cake-basket 
around. “ Don’t, don’t, Miss Clara,” muttered 
the ever vigilant Maumy, while she pretended 
to arrange something on the tea-tray ; “ who 


30 


SNOW ANGEL. 


ever heard of handing cake ’till supper’s most 
over ?” 

“ Yery well, Maumj, we’ll wait a little 
longer,” replied Mrs. Yane, while Miss Yarney 
could scarcely restrain her mirth at the by- 
play. The next thing was : 

“ Don’t you see his cup’s most out ag’in, 
Miss Clara? But never mind, he’s done had 
four, and I don’t ’spect you’d better ax him. 
Now, Miss Yarney, hand me the cake to parse 
round.” While Maumy, with benign conde- 
scension, was * parsing ’ the cake around, Mrs. 
Yane whispered: “ Maumy is devoted to cake, 
and thinks that if it is handed around too early 
there’ll be but little of it left. She believes 
that a hearty supper leaves but little appetite 
for cake.” 

“ Prudent tactics,” replied Miss Yarney. 
“But to teaze Maumy I shall take a double 
slice on my plate, where I will leave it for her 
benefit. Watch her countenance, Mrs. Yane, 
while I help myself.” Miss Yarney very grave- 
ly appropriated two large slices of the delicious 
cake, and Maumy’s first impulse was to draw 


SNOW A NGrEI/. 


31 


the basket suddenly away when she saw what 
she was after, but her “ manners” prevailed, 
so far as to let her take possession of the 
coveted prize, while an expression, half aston- 
ishment, half displeasure, settled on her bronze 
features, and she remarked to Mrs. Yane, in 
her usual confidential tone : “ It’ll give her a 
ill turn, as sure as she’s living, if she eats all 
that cake. It’s very owwholesome, is sponge 
cake.” 

“ Indeed, Maumy,- I cannot have you inter- 
fering so. It is not nice of you. I am not a 
child, you know,” remonstrated Mrs. Yane. 

“ I’d like to know what you is then ? I 
reckon I nussed you, and larnt you every thing 
upon yearth that you knows. I spect you 
think you’s as old as Methusaly, but you 
ain’t,” said Maumy, muttering. A pleasant 
conversation was going on at the lower end of 
the table, which, animated and cheerful, quite 
diverted every one’s attention from the prompt- 
ings of Maumy, and the subdued laughter of 
Miss Yarney. Mr. Yane looked up that way 
two or three times, and by the quiet but merry 


32 


SNOW ANGEL. 


twinkle in his eye, they knew that he was aware 
of what was going on, for Maumy’s doings on 
such occasions were quite a subject for mirth at 
Glen-Holme. 

After tea the children played loto. Dody 
fell asleep on the floor, with Tip curled up in 
his arms. The ladies sewed, knitted, and con- 
versed with Mr. Yane and his guest, who 
talked of the war, and the great battles that 
had been fought. 

“ I don’t believe he's for the Union,” whis- 
pered Effie to Ida, as they sat together at a 
table putting a dissected map of the United 
States together. 

“Nor I either,” replied Ida. “Didn’t you 
hear him say just now : ‘ They’ll never whip us 
if they try until doomsday.’ I’ve a great mind 
to sing ‘ Eed, White, and Blue ’ right out. I 
would if mamma hadn’t told me so often that it 
is impolite to sing in company unless we are 
asked to.” f 

“ That’s what mamma says too. But what do 
you think, Ida ? Yesterday, when I was down 
the street, old Mr. Jay called me a Yankee ; and 


SNOW ANGEL. 


33 


I told him ‘ yes, I was a Yankee, if it meant 
standing straight out for the Union.’ ” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Ida. “What did old 
secesh say ?” 

“ He said I was Southern born, and ought to 
be ashamed to take sides with the Yanks, and 
made fun of me.” 

“ What did you tell him ?” asked Ida, leaning 
her arms on the table. 

“I told him no, I wasn’t ashamed of being 
truo to my flag. I was born under it, and he 
was the one to be ashamed for taking sides 
with Jeff. Davis, who is trying to break up 
our country,” said Effie, her black eyes flash- 
ing. 

“You didn’t, though?” asked Ida, opening 
her great blue orbs to their full extent. 

“Yes I did, too. Then I came home and 
told mamma.” 

“ What did she say ?” 

“ She said it was not proper for little girls to 
talk politics ; but she laughed and kissed me, 
and I knew she thought I was right.” 

“ I guess you are right,” said Ida. “ I was 


34 


SNOW ANGEL. 


born in Florida, and they call me a Yank too, 
because I’m true blue.” 

“ Don’t you remember, Ida, before we came 
here what fun we had singing the ‘ Star- 
Spangled Banner ’ every time the secesh board- 
ers- sang ‘ My Maryland ?’ Don’t you remem- 
ber that as soon as they stopped we used to 
begin ? Didn’t we sing ‘ My Maryland ’ down, 
with Annie to help ?” 

“ That we did. What made me the maddest 
though, they called my handsome little flag ‘ a 
disgraced rag ;’ then I pitched into old Jeff, I 
tell you.” 

“ And then when the rebels crossed over into 
Maryland, didn’t they think they were going to 
do great things ? Don’t you know we thought 
the house was on fire, secesh screamed and 
clapped their hands so ; and one of them said to 
me, “ Now, Ida, you can see your little cousins 
in the South and mamma, who was just com- 
ing by, said, ‘ she would prefer remaining with 
her father and brothers in the North, who are 
fighting the battles of their country.’ ” 

“ My mamma,” said Effie, “ put my flag right 


SNOW ANGEL. 


35 


out of the front widow over their heads, 
and said : 4 If one hundred thousand rebels 
come, they shall see that 1 am not afraid of 
them, or ashamed of my flag.’ ” 

“ That was bully — oh, I didn’t mean to say 
that; but it was. I guess they didn’t sing 
4 My Maryland’ after McClellan whipped the 
rebel army out of Maryland, foot, horse, and 
dragoons.” 

“ No, we had some peace after that.” Just 
then a little bell sounded. A silence fell on the 
cheerful circle. Mr. Yane opened a large book, 
and his clear, pleasant voice arose in solemn 
tones, reading the lesson of the day, which 
breathed of peace and hope ; after which he 
offered up the evening prayer, invoking the 
blessing of God on all present, and His mercy 
on the world. 

Little folks who live North can scarcely 
understand the fact that the loyal children of 
their own age, who live in the Border States, 
where opinions are, unhappily, so divided, are 
exposed to all sorts of trials from their young 
companions who wear the “ Bed and White.” 


36 


SNOW ANGEL. 


They have to contend against rancor, hatred, 
and ridicule ; while on the other hand they are 
not backward in defending their cause with 
equal spirit, and an intelligence and firmness 
which is remarkable. Thus a spirit of ill-will 
and unkindness has been kindled in the inno- 
cent hearts of children, where peace should 
dwell, by the sin of secession ; and it is not the 
least crime on the catalogue against it, for 
whosoever doeth ought to offend or injure the 
innocence of little ones, “ it were better for him 
that a millstone were hung about his ifefck and 
he were drowned in the depths of the sea.” 
Mistress Knut could tell you many things 
about the trials of the Union children in Mary- 
land, but you have been so patient throughout 
this introductory chapter, that she will as soon 
as possible introduce you to the Snow Angel. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


37 


CHAPTER II. 

THE SNOW ANGEL. 

“ Advent — sou’west winds and flowers,” said 
a lady, who was making a call at Glen-Holme. 
“ The most remarkable weather for this season 
of the year that I ever knew, Mrs. Yarney.” 
Then with a merry little laugh, which proved 
how well pleased she was with the aspect of 
things, she tripped into her carriage, upon the 
front seat of which rested a basket filled and 
running over with roses, geranium leaves, and 
chrysanthemums, which a lady at “ Swal- 
low Barn” had given her from the flower- 
garden. 

After Effie recited her lessons she got per- 
mission to spend an hour or two in the glen. 
Ida and the boys had gone with their mamma 
and- Mrs. Yane in the carriage to pay some 
visits at a distance. Mr. Yane was in his 
4 


38 


SNOW ANGEL. 


library, assorting some old coins. Miss Yarney 
was in the parlor, trying her best to teach the 
African parrot to whistle Dixie, but he only 
ruffled up his plumage, and looked with sullen 
displeasure on her attempts. A farmer called 
to see Mr. Yane, by whom he was welcomed 
with genial hospitality. Effie, in skipping down 
stairs, burst a button off her sack, and ran 
into the parlor to ask her sister to pin it for 
her; and while Miss Yarney was supplying the 
place of the lost button, and giving Effie a little 
lecture, in an undertone, about her careless- 
ness, the farmer said : “ The wheat crop will 
be very fair, sir, if we ^have snow in time. 
These warm spring-like days and frosty nights 
turn the wheat out of the earth. I wish we 
could have a regular, old-fashioned, deep 
snow.” 

“ I wish so, too,” thought Effie, as she ran 
out. “ It would be so jolly to go coasting down 
the slope of the lawn on Hal’s sled, and to play 
snow-ball with each other. Then the snow is 
beautiful; and besides that, Mr. Yane would 
give us a sleigh-ride. Won’t I be glad though 


SNOW ANGEL. 


39 


when the old woman begins to pick her 'geese, 
and the sleigh-bells begin to jingle !” 

It was in truth the middle of Advent, and the 
weather continued as mild as spring. The 
leaves had nearly all fallen from the trees, and 
the hill-sides looked as if carpeted with rich 
stuffs of russet and crimson. Chrysanthemums, 
dahlias, the fall roses and carnations, were in 
glorious bloom in the flower-gardens. Improv- 
ident birds still lingered and warbled among 
the evergreens. Yellow butterflies flittered 
hither and thither, as if the jonquils and daisies 
were in bloom. Bees hummed in the air, and 
the flies had not yet sought their winter- 
quarters. The rivulet dashed over the rocks, 
filling the glen with the sound of its laughter, 
and the old brown-squirrels stretched them- 
selves sadly on the lichens and moss, as if they 
had come to grief ; but the young ones thought 
the late summer splendid, called their fathers 
and mothers “ old muffs,’* and said they were 
just making themselves miserable about noth- 
ing. Effie sat on a rock above one of the little 
cascades, watching their gambols. She wished 


40 


SNOW ANGEL. 


she could only understand what they were say- 
ing to each other ! She certainly heard a low 
tiny murmur, and saw them put their heads to- 
gether and nod, then turn round and go here 
and there, as if they were obeying orders ; but 
she could not make out any more for want of 
understanding their lingo.” 

Presently there came along an old gray- 
squirrel — a squirrel of standing, she judged, 
from the marks of deference that were shown 
him — and he walked slowly, with a grave and 
anxious look on his countenance, until he came 
to a sheltered, mossy nook, wli&re they all 
gathered around him and heard what he had 
to say. Then they all appeared much agitated, 
and went away in different directions to their 
homes. 

“ Something’s up,” said Effie. “ That old 
fellow has brought ill news. I wish I knew 
what he said !” But her curiosity could not 
be gratified ; so she turned to, and made boats 
of the dried leaves, and sent them sailing down 
the stream, to be dashed over into the cataracts 
and wrecked. Then she made a dam across 


SNOW ANGEL. 


41 


the rivulet, and wet her apron. Then she hung 
it on the rocks to dry. Then she played 
bridge, by hauling from the hill-top the de- 
cayed limb of a tree which had been lying there 
since the winter before — which she managed at 
last to throw across the streamlet — and, after 
wiping the perspiration from her face, she be- 
gan to walk triumphantly over it ; but, alas ! 
the wood was rotten, the bridge snapped in 
half, and she found herself standing up to her 
knees in water. 

“ Pshaw !” exclaimed Effie, quite disgusted, 
“ I do wish it would snow and freeze ; then I’d 
slide on you, and not get wetted either.” 

“ What’s de matter, young Missis ? Tears 
to me you’s wet.” 

“ It appears so to me too,” replied Effie, as 
she stepped out of the water, shaking her 
dress ; “ but I’d like to know where you are* 
Uncle Neb ?” * 

“ Here I is, little Missis,” replied the voice* 
and an old negro man, who had been sitting on 
the bank above her, watching her movements 
while he rested himself, slung his saw over his 
4 * 


42 


SNOW ANGEL. 


shoulder, and, taking up his wood-horse, came 
slowly down the narrow pathway. 

“ How are you, Uncle Neb ? You don’t get 

many aches this nice weather, do you ? n 

% 

“ Few aches, honey, an’ fewer jobs, ’case, you 
see, nobody’s gwine to have wood sawed sich 
weather as this. De fact is, we wants snow. 
’Taint nat’ral like, here nigh on to Christmas, 
this sort of weather. Ah, little Missy, I often 
heerd that a ‘ green Christmas makes a fat 
churchyard.’ ” 

“ I should think old people would like the 
warm sunshine, Uncle Neb,” said Effie, giving 
her dress another vigorous shake. 

“ ’Taint good for de grain,” observed Uncle 
Neb, feeling the edge of his saw. And he 
might have added, nor good for his business ; 
for Uncle Neb was the wood-sawyer of Winona 
whom every one employed who used wood for 
fuel ; but, up to this time, only a stray job or 
two had fallen to his lot, on account of the re- 
markable mildness of the weather. “ But you 
had better run home, chile, and dry your 
clothes ; you’se jest as wet as a drownded rat.” 






/ 



% 


SNOW ANGEL.— Page 42 




SNOW ANGEL. 


43 


“ I believe I will go now, Uncle Neb,” replied 
Effie, wringing the water out of her skirts. 

“ Good-by, chile. I hope yon won’t have 
de croup,” said the old man, as he toiled up 
the steep, rocky hill. 

“ Thank you. Poor old fellow ! he can hardly 
tug up that hill. If I wasn’t so wet, I’d go and 
take his wood-horse along for him. Uncle 
Neb ! What a name ! Nebuchadnezzar ! It 
seems to me such a name’s enough to kill its 
owner.” 

When Effie got home, a lady was taking leave 
of her mother at the hall-door, and after she 
was settled in her carriage, she said : “ I am 
going home, Mrs. Varney, to pray for snow ; 
for I am just dying to use my new sleigh. It 
is a swan with beautiful silver mountings. I 
shall certainly come for you the first fall of 
snow we have and off she was whirled. 

“ Oh, Effie !” said Mrs. Varney, “ where have 
you been to get so wet ?” 

“ My bridge broke, mamma, and I went in. 
Indeed I could not help it.” 

“ Eun directly up, and tell Fan to give you 


44 


SNOW ANGEL. 


dry things, and change yonr stockings and 
shoes immediately,” exclaimed Mrs. Varney. 
“ I almost wish that it would snow.” 

“I wish so too, ma’am. Here’s almost 
Christmas, and not a feather, nor yet a flake ! 
I’d like to know whatever sort of Christmas it’s 
going to be without snow !” observed Maumy, 
who had come to the hall-door to get a glimpse 
of the visitors. 

“ It will snow in good time, Maumy,” said 
Mrs. Varney, quietly, as she went in. 

“ It just seems to me that everybody is get- 
ting crazy about snow. I never heard so many 
people wishing for snow in all my life,” thought 
Effie, as, with Fan’s help, she got on her dry 
things. “ It would be nice to coast, and snow- 
ball, and all that, but there are all my poor 
little pets in the glen, the birds, the butterflies, 
and the squirrels ; they’d all die, poor little 
things, and I think it’s downright unkind for 
everybody to be wishing for snow.” Then she 
told Fan of her adventures in the glen, and 
they were in high glee over them, when Mrs. 
Varney came and said : “ Effie, it seems to me 


SNOW ANGEL. 


45 


that it will be best for you not to go so much 
into the glen. The wind is chilly although the 
sun shines so warmly, and you can’t exercise 
sufficiently there to keep you from taking cold. 

I shall not permit it hereafter.” 

“ Oh, mamma ! what shall I do if you stop ' 
my going there ? It’s all that I care for.” 

“ Not ally I hope, darling ! I don’t mean that 
you shall never go. I only mean not so fre- 
quently. You are a heedless little girl, and I 
must take good care of you. Come, now, get 
out Dolly’s nightgown, and sew a little.” 

“ It is so very tiresome,” said Effie, shaking 
herself : “ I shall never get it finished.” 

“ It was a fair agreement, Effie, was it not, 
that if I gave you a new wax doll, you would 
make all of its clothes nicely ? Eemember, I 
am to cut out and baste, you are to stitch, hem, 
gather, put in sleeves, cord, and dq every thing 
as neatly as if you were doing it for yourself.” 

“ Yes, mamma, I remember,” said Effie, re- 
luctantly. 

“Very well. Fetch the nightgown, and I 
will show you what is next to be done.” 

9 


46 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“Here it is, mamma, but you see I don’t 
know how to put on the yoke,” said Effie, de- 
spondingly. 

“ Why this is very neatly sewed, Effie. I 
think Dolly will be proud of it when it is com- 
pleted. I have some neat edging that I will 
give you for the collar and cuffs. See how 
much you have got done by just sewing a little 
each day.” 

“ Yes, indeed, mamma,” said Effie, now quite 
in the spirit of the thing ; “ and I do believe I 
can finish it by dinner-time — don’t you ?” 

“ To be sure you can, if you work steadily. 
By learning how to make Dolly’s clothes neatly, 
you’ll be able in another year to make your 
own.” 

“ Oh, mamma, shall I ? or are you only in 
fun ?” 

“ I am certainly not in fun, daughter. Your 
clothes are of a larger pattern than Dolly’s — 
that is all. Don’t you see that they are cut out 
precisely like yours ?” 

“ Why, yes, mamma ! I did not notice that 
before.” Then Effie set herself steadily to 


SNOW ANGEL. 


47 


work, chatting pleasantly with her mother, who 
patiently arranged the difficult parts for her ; 
and sure enough, by dinner-time the handsome 
little cambric nightgown was finished, prettily 
and neatly, and Effie’s nimble fingers had done 
every stitch of it. 

That night the children all spent the evening 
together in Mrs. Varney’s room, where there 
w r as a grand undressing of the doll ; and they 
all declared that she was far more beautiful in 
her nightgown than in her showy ball-dress. 
Only there was no bed for her to sleep on. 
That was a great pull-down to the pleasant il- 
lusion, the having no bed. 

“ Oh, well, never mind,” suggested Ida ; “ fold 
up the plaid shawl, and get two clean pocket- 
handkerchiefs for sheets. That will do splen- 
didly.” 

This plan was adopted by acclamation, and 
Dolly, in all the glory of her new nightgown, 
was put comfortably to bed, her eyes were 
closed, and she was supposed to be asleep and 
dreaming, to the intense satisfaction of the 
children. 


48 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ I hope and trust that the dear Christ-child 
will bring me a bedstead,” said Effie. “ A bed- 
stead for Estelle — I wish everybody wouldn’t 
keep on calling her Dolly — a bedstead, and a 
kitchen with a stove and gridirons, frying-pans, 
and tubs and washboards — ” 

“And contrabands to do the work,” sug- 
gested Hal. 

“ Of course I must have servants,” replied 
Effie, laughing. 

Then the children fell to talking about Christ- 
mas-trees. Effie had always had one at home, 
but Mrs. Yarney looked sad when it was talked 
of, for some dear and loved faces that had gath- 
ered around the last Christmas-tree were now 
sleeping their last sleep in the grave. Mrs. 
Germaine did not know how it would be for her 
children. A great battle was daily and hourly 
expected : her brave husband and sons would 
be exposed to its fury and perils. She felt but 
little heart for festivities of any sort. The 
minister was preparing a celebration for his 
Sunday-school children. There was to be a 
great Christmas-tree there, and an exhibition 


SNOW ANGEL. 


49 


of a splendid magic lantern; after which the 
children were all to sing a Christmas carol. 
The uncertainty which hung over the prospects 
of the little folk at Glen-Holme about the 
Christmas-trees, clouded their holiday antici- 
pations very much, and it was a great relief to 
them to have Mr. Yane’s festival to chat about. 
Ida had a copy of the Christmas carol, and 
read it aloud. Then they tried to sing it, and 
would have succeeded, only Dody, who knew 
but one tune — and that was “ Dixie’s Land” 
— would sing that, which put the rest out, and 
made a perfect Dutch concert of the attempt, 
which ended in uproarious laughter ; in the 
midst of which the prayer-bell rang, and they 
separated for the night. 

Ere many days, Mrs. Yane, who was ex- 
tremely nice and systematic in her housekeep- 
ing, and who knew how to make all sorts of 
delicious things, began her preparations for the 
holidays. Mrs. Germaine, Miss Yarney, and 
Mr. Yane went into the city early one morn- 
ing after breakfast to shop, and did not return 
until night. There was a mystery of some 
5 


50 


SNOW ANGEL. 


sort on foot. Miss Yarney, and Fan, who had 
accompanied the ladies to the city, looked im- 
mensely loaded under their cloaks ; and Effie 
and Dody, who were in Mrs. Yarney ’s room 
playing graces, were sent down-stairs on some 
pretence or other. Then the wardrobe was un- 
locked, and, with great secrecy, several large 
bundles were put away and covered up. Mrs. 
Germaine also sent her children down-stairs, 
and her door was locked for one long hour. 
They were on the tiptoe of expectation ; but 
when they came up, what did they find ? Noth- 
ing under the sun except the trunk which held 
their summer clothes, the bedstead, dressing- 
table, bureau, chairs, and stove, just precisely 
where they had left them. They had their sus- 
picions, but as they were not in the habit of 
prying into their mamma’s affairs, as some 
children do, they did not teaze her ; besides 
which, they had an idea that it was best to 
be on their good behavior at a time when it 
was but natural to suppose that Christingle 
was about. But they held their secret con- 
claves — never doubt that — held them in cor- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


51 


ners, on the stairs, in the hall, and by the fire- 
side ; and wondered, told marvellous tales they 
had heard of good old Christmas times, and 
related their own experience to each other, un- 
til their tongues were fairly tired out. 

One morning after breakfast it was an- 
nounced to the children that they were to have 
their Christmas-tree. Effie was to have a 
holly tree, and the Germaines a cedar. A man 
had been spoken to, who had promised to 
fetch them on Christmas eve. Then, as you 
may imagine, there arose a hubbub of glad- 
ness at Glen-Holme! It was like the bursting 
of a bottle of spruce-beer, and there was no 
end to the uproar ; so they were turned neck 
and crop out of doors, where they could shout 
and cut up to their hearts’ content. Mrs. Ger- 
maine and Mrs. Yarney had talked a great 
deal about the disappointment of the little folk, 
and the day before they had come to the con- 
clusion to lay aside their cares for a season, 
for their sakes. They knew well, these tender 
mothers, that sorrows and trials would meet 
the little ones soon enough in their onward 


52 


SNOW ANGEL. 


march of life, and they thought that it was not 
well to dim a single ray of happiness which, by 
right of innocence, was theirs ; or throw out of 
the natural order any of the simple joys inci- 
dent to childhood. “ Let us make them happy, 
poor little souls, while we may. To be de- 
prived of their blithesome enjoyments cannot 
undo the sad past for you, my friend, or avert 
the dreary possibilities of my future,” said 
Mrs. Germaine. 

The Germaines got letters from their broth- 
ers containing bank-notes ; and the general 
wrote word to his wife to make the children 
as happy as possible. Effie also received a 
letter from her brother in Washington, full of 
Christmas promises. They were all very 
happy, and, after lessons, got permission to go 
into the glen for a romp, accompanied by Tip 
and Dixie. It was nearly sunset when they 
returned to the house. They had missed Effie, 
and thought that she had gone in ; but the 
child had wandered away to one of her favorite 
haunts behind the rocks, where she was sit- 
ting, silent and thoughtful, watching the squir- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


53 


rels, who seemed to be in great trouble and 
agitation about something. She did not ob- 
serve that dark clouds had gathered in the 
sky, dark slate-colored clouds, and that it had 
grown much colder. The hill and trees had 
hidden them from her, and she was so intent 
on watching the squirrels, and wishing she 
could understand the language of beasts and 
birds, that she did not feel the chilly gusts of 
wind that whirled the crisp leaves in eddies 
around her. Suddenly a large snow-flake fell 
on her hand, and, looking up, she saw others 
fluttering softly down, like little white doves ; 
but they melted as soon as they fell. But she 
sat watching them till one fell in each of her 
eyes, making her start, and wink, and finally 
laugh, it was such an odd freak ; but when 
she looked up, after drying her eyelashes, she 
saw, to her great amazement, a tall, slender 
maiden, robed in white transparent draperies, 
standing before her. Her eyes were gray and 
soft ; her hair was a pale golden color, and it 
fell rippling back from her forehead over her 
shoulders. A circlet of tiny diamonds sur- 
5 * 


54 


SNOW ANGEL. 


rounded her head. Her face was very white ; 
her hands, her bosom, and throat were like ala- 
baster. Her lips were delicately tinted with 
rose, and a sweet smile rested upon them. 

“ Effie, did I not hear thee just now wishing 
to understand the language of nature ?” she in- 
quired sweetly. 

“ I should like to know very much what the 
squirrels and birds say to one another,” re- 
plied Effie, who arose and spoke with great 
politeness as well as timidity, for she was 
awed, if not downright frightened, by the sin- 
gular apparition. 

“ Thou slialt have that gift bestowed ort 
thee, child, on one condition,” replied the spir- 
it-maiden, gently. 

“ I will do any thing that you wish — if it is 
not wrong,” added Effie, in great haste. 

“ My child, if I were to suggest wrong to 
thee, my spotless robes would be stripped from 
me, and I should have to wander forever 
among evil spirits,” responded the being sol- 
emnly. 

“Who are you?” asked Effie. “Are you 


SNOW ANGEL. 


55 


my sister Florence, who went to heaven years 
ago?” 

“ No. I am not thy sister Florence. She 
is one of the birds of God,” and here the beau- 
tiful being bowed her head in reverence of that 
great name. “ I am not she, but I wish to 
bestow a gift on thee, because thou art tender 
and kind to animals. But to have this gift, 
the secret of it must not be revealed to any 
mortal ear.” 

“Not to my mamma, even?” asked Effie, 
doubtingly. 

“ Not even to her, until I give thee permis- 
sion. It will lead thee into no harm, child. If 
it were so, I should not be permitted to impart 
it.” 

“ I am almost afraid,” said Effie to herself. 
“ It will seem strange not to tell mamma ; but 
I must hear what the squirrels and birds say — 
there can be no harm in it. I promise what 
you desire, lady. I will not let any one know 
of my gift.” 

The beautiful being smiled, then took from 
the folds of her robe a tiny crystal flask con- 


56 


SNOW ANGEL. 


taining a pale-blue liquid. She poured a drop 
or two pf this on her finger, and touched Ef- 
fie’s ears with it. At that moment a great gust 
of wind whirled the dead leaves up in a perfect 
tumult around the child, almost blinding her ; 
and when they fell once more, rustling and 
whispering to the earth, she saw that she was 
alone. 

“ Oh, the beautiful, lovely lady !” she ex- 
claimed. “ I do hope that I shall see her 
again !” Just then she heard the tiniest, fun- 
niest little voice that was ever listened to, say : 
“ That was the Snow- Angel, Effie, and we are 
all wild with joy at seeing her. Run home 
now, or you will take cold, little friend.” 

“ Who could that be ? Where did it come 
from ? What in the world is it ?” thought Ef- 
fie, looking round and round, and up and 
down. But she saw nothing except the bare 
branches nodding over her head, the rivulet 
shivering and fretting itself in a rage over the 
rocks, and the withered leaves hurtling, mut- 
tering, and whirling about her feet. Nothing 
else, except a pair of piercingly bright little 


y 


SNOW ANGEL. 


57 


eyes peeping out of a crevice in the rock, about 
which the moss was hanging like a curtain, 
and two long, white teeth, which looked 
mightily as if the owner of them were in a 
broad laugh. 

“ It was I who spoke, Effie,” said the owner 
of the eyes and teeth, emerging from the mossy 
curtain that hung before the door of his dwell- 
ing. “ I am the governor of the ground-squir- 
rels, who all love you for your kindness to us. 
Don’t you remember the day that you drove off 
those fierce lions (he meant Tip and Dixie, the 
poor little midge) who had pursued one of our 
family so ferociously, that she stumbled and 
would have been torn to pieces but for you ? 
That was my daughter.” 

Effie laughed merrily — she could not help it 
— to see how the little creature had come out 
on the moss and reared himself on his hind 
legs, with his right hand on his breast, bowing 
and making the most oratorical flourishes and 
gestures. 

“ Excuse me for laughing, governor,” said 
Effie, full of mirth. “ I mean no harm, and 


58 


SNOW ANGEL. 


am delighted to make your acquaintance. De- 
pend upon it, the lions shall never harm you 
or any of your people, if I can help it.” 

“ A thousand thanks !” replied the ground- 
squirrel, or, we should say, the governor, bow- 
ing to the ground. “We shall not be in such 
dread of them now that the Snow- Angel has 
come, for — ” He did not finish his sentence, 
for at that instant Tip came leaping and 
bounding into the glen, with a succession of 
fierce barks, followed by the shouts of “ Mau- 
my,” and the more quiet and distinct calls of 
Mr. Yane, who had come to look for Effie ; 
and the governor sprang backwards. There 
was a whisk of his tail, a tremulous shiver 
among the moss, and he had disappeared in 
the recesses of the rock. 

“ Why, Effie, you look as happy as a queen,” 
said Mr. Yane, coming up ; “ but you have 
given us all great uneasiness.” 

“ I am sorry for that, Mr. Yane. I have been 
watching the ground-squirrels and things, and 
did not know it was so late,” she replied. 

“ Ground-squirrels ain’t a coming to nuss 


SNOW ANGEL. 


59 


you if you has de croup to-night, as I expects 
you will,” put in Maumy, irately. “I never 
heerd of sich a thing ! De nasty little var- 
mints, gnawing, and nibbling, and undermining 
every thing about de place ! I wish Tip and 
Dix here could destroy de whole kit and posse 
of ’em.” 

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, 
Maumy, to be so cruel,” said Effie, excitedly, 
as she let go of Maumy’s hand. “It is not 
right to be cruel to dumb things — is it, Mr. 
Yane ?” 

“ No,” replied Mr. Yane, decidedly. “ It is 
very wicked and cowardly. But Maumy knows 
well enough that she’ll have to take it out in 
talk, so far as her designs against the ground- 
squirrels go. I doubt if she wouldn’t beat Tip 
soundly if she caught him wronging one of 
your little brown favorites, Effie.” 

Maumy chuckled to herself, and said : “ Bet- 
ter not trust to that, sir. I ain’t no friend to 
any sort of varmints.” 

“ Effie, you will have to warn your friends 
against this ogress,” said Mr. Yane, laughing. 


60 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“I will, sir,” replied Effie, gravely. Then 
she bethought herself of her promise to the 
Snow- Angel, and said : “ I shall try to keep 
Tip and Dixie from hunting any of them, they 
are such wee soft things.” 




SNOW ANGEL. 


61 


CHAPTER III. 

THE GHOST. 

Every one expected to see the earth and the 
house-tops covered with snow the next morn- 
ing ; but, to the surprise of all, the sun shone 
out resplendently, there was not a cloud to be 
seen, and there was no snow, not a drift, or 
patch, or flake, to be seen high or low, but, 
as usual, there was a heavy hoar-frost. 

“ The wheat crops will suffer severely if this 
goes on,” observed the minister at the break- 
fast-table. “ I was in hopes of an old-fashioned 
snow.” 

“ And I of a drive in Mrs. Hampstead’s new 
sleigh,” said Mrs. Varney. 

“ I expected to have a bully time coasting,” 
cried Dody. “ We was a going to make a 
snow-man — Hal and I — and forts, and we was 
going to snow-ball everybody, right and left.” 

6 


62 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ Oli, pshaw ! I never saw the like ! A fel- 
low can’t have a bit of fun without snow,” said 
Hal. “ I wish it would snow and snow for ten 
weeks.” 

“ Hold on, Hal,” said Mr. Yane. u We shall * 
have to send you out among the Esquimaux if 
you wish such things as that. The snow will 
come in good time, little ones, depend upon 
that. He who sends us sunshine, will also send 
the snow when He sees best. Now tell me, 
who wants to take a ride with Jem in the 
wagon, to cut evergreens for the church and 
the festival ?” 

“ I,” and “ I,” and “ I ” — all volunteered to 
go, but only the two boys were accepted ; so 
they were buttoned up in their overcoats and 
wrapped in comforters, and went on their 
way rejoicing. There was a great stir in the 
house all day. Every one seemed bent on 
some important business, and nobody told what 
anybody was doing ; and, in fact, the amiable 
inmates of Glen-Holme seemed to be getting a 
little snappish towards each other. As to Ef- 
fie, she cared very little about what was going 


SNOW ANGEL. 


63 


on. She was so happy in her strange gift, that 
it seemed as if she saw every thing through dia- 
mond glasses ; all the world was so wonderfully 
brightened up, every one appeared so much 
more beautiful than formerly, and her affec- 
tions glowed so warmly towards all living 
things, that she never felt so happy in all her 
life. But Mrs. Yarney had laid an interdict 
on her going down into the glen for some time 
to come ; she had taken cold, and was a little 
feverish all the day following. That night her 
fever was so high, that her mamma watched 
her until morning, when it abated, and, except 
that she was more quiet through the day, she 
seemed to be as well as usual. Every one in 
the house continued busy, and, about this time, 
the mysterious whisperings and doings were on 
the increase. Ida Germaine was having pat- 
terns cut, and had sent out to buy bran. Mrs. 
Yarney was busy with rose-colored merino and 
floss silk, which she hid under a towel when- 
ever any one came in. Mr. Yane was a great 
deal in his library in consultation with Mrs. 
Yane, and sometimes Miss Yarney was invited 


64 


SNOW ANGEL. 


in ; and from her clear peals of laughter that 
rung merrily out through the closed door, 
every one knew that something very amusing 
was in preparation. Mrs. Germaine made an- 
other trip to the city. As to “Maumy,” she 
■was a perfect Herod among the eggs ; one 
would have supposed she was bent on the de- 
struction of some venomous reptile concealed 
in an egg-shell, and not being able to find the 
exact one, was determined on the destruction 
of all, rather than miss it. A great chopping 
was heard steadily going on in the lower re- 
gions, and Tip and Dixie were frequently heard 
howling out of the kitchen, pursued by the 
cook with a meat-fork in her hand. The house 
was full of savory smells ; and Dody told the 
other children, in confidence, that he had 
“ peeped into the pantry, and saw thousands of 
pies and tarts, and a great pile of yellow jelly, 
that looked like big lumps of glass.” You 
must understand that Dody was only five years 
old, which will account for his peculiar ideas 
of figures, as well as grammar. He would very 
often declare that he saw ten thousand birds, 


SNOW ANGEL. 


65 

when perhaps he had seen a flock of fifteen or 
twenty ; and it was always great fnn for the 
children, who knew that he did not mean a 
lie by it. 

There was only one drawback to the general 
satisfaction, and that was, that it did not snow. 
This was all for a few days, and the children 
thought it was enough too, until, amidst all the 
hubbub of domestic happiness, news came that 
a terrible battle was being fought in Virginia, 
The bulletin said that General Germaine led 
the advance — which he always did — but noth- 
ing more. His brave sons fought by his side ; 
one being on his staff, and the other, who had 
already been wounded in a former battle in de- 
fence of the honor of his flag, commanded a 
battery in the general’s division ; so that 
mother and friends knew that they were all 
under the deadly fire of the enemy. Then a 
quiet and sadness fell on the household. Mrs. 
Germaine fell ill with anxiety and dread, and 
the children, silent and dejected, knew not 
what terrible things to expect. Various ru- 
mors reached Mr. Vane, but nothing certain 
6 * 


66 


SNOW ANGEL. 


was known for long, weary hours, except that 
the national forces had been repulsed with 
great slaughter. “ Ten thousand dead and 
missing,” said the papers. “ The enemy fought 
behind breastworks on the summit of a range 
of hills. Our brave troops, in their efforts to 
storm that long range of fortifications, were 
mowed down by thousands, and compelled to 
abandon it.” No tidings, for two days, as to 
who escaped or who fell. At last a letter 
came. The minister brought it himself from 
the post-office ; and not knowing whether it 
brought tidings of grief or joy, almost dreaded 
to deliver it to Mrs. Germaine, whose thin 
cheek flushed as she tore it open with trem- 
bling, eager fingers. “ All’s well with me and 
the boys,” were the first words that greeted her 
eyes. Then tears of thankfulness and joy 
blinded her, so that, for a little while, she could 
read no more. The joyous outcries of the 
children quickly spread the news from garret 
to cellar at Glen-Holme. “ The general and 
his sons are alive, and not even wounded,” was 
told from one to another, and all rejoiced. But 


SNOW ANGEL. 


67 


that was not all. In their frantic delight the 
children had gone off without hearing what 
followed, which was this : “We have escaped 
from that awful carnage without a scratch, and 
we shall be with you, on short leave of absence, 
at Christmas.” 

Then the little ones grew wild in their joy. 
It was all like the sudden breaking up of ice 
in a sun-lit torrent ; such a jostling, turning 
head over heels, dancing, and flying round and 
round, and such a Babel of sounds, amidst 
which Tip and ©ixie were heard almost break- 
ing their hearts barking, surely never was seen 
or heard. It was the children’s day after that, 
and all at Glen-Holme sympathized so sin- 
cerely with Mrs. Germaine in her joy, that 
they held the reins until the prayer-bell rang 
that night. They were too young, those chil- 
dren, to think of any thing beyond the joyful 
fact that father and brothers had escaped, al- 
most by a miracle, the deadly perils of that 
battle ; or to look away at the dead and dying 

soldiers left on the field, or at the broken hearts 

/ 

in their desolated homes. But when the quiet 


68 


SNOW ANGEL. 


night came, and the little ones had gone to 
rest, many were the gentle and tender words 
uttered by the family circle at Glen-Holme ; 
many were the tears shed to the memory of 
the brave who fell that bloody day, and earnest 
were the prayers that ascended to the Father 
of all, to implore His assistance and consola- 
tion for the bereaved and suffering everywhere. 

“ Mamma, why is there such joy for little 
children whenever Christmas comes ?” inquired 
Effie the next day, as she sat sewing beside her 
mother. 

“ Because, daughter, the Saviour came in the 
guise of a little child. He consecrated and dig- 
nified childhood, by becoming himself a child. 
Now all Christians honor the childhood of Je- 
sus, by making a joyful festival for children on 
the day of his nativity. It is because He was 
a child. The angels of heaven sang a great 
song of joy as they descended to adore Him 
in His humble crib. The kings of the East 
came, bearing Him gifts of gold, frankincense, 
and myrrh ; and adored Him along with the 
humble shepherds, who offered Him the young 


SNOW ANGEL. 


69 


lambs of their flocks. It is the childhood of 
Jesus which is honored in all that is done to 
make children happy at Christmas. Many 
people do not think of this, but by far the 
greater number do. Let us think of it, dar- 
ling.” 

“ I wish I had been there. I would have 
offered Jesus all I had — every thing!” said 
Effie. 

“ Offer yourself to Him, my little daughter, 
and try to become like Him, meek and humble 
of heart, and guileless in speech and manner,” 
said Mrs. Yarney, laying her arm about Effie. 

Effie felt this. She knew that she was 
neither meek nor humble, but quick of temper, 
sometimes rude, and occasionally disobedient. 
But new thoughts stirred within her, and she 
determined that, in the solemn and joyous fes- 
tival now so near at hand, she would offer her- 
self at the crib, and try to become more like 
the Divine Child. 

Effie had a singularly vivid imagination, 
which led her into odd conceits. Between 
sleeping and waking, she sometimes had 


70 


SNOW ANGEL. 


strange and unearthly dreams, and nothing 
could convince her for a time that they were 
not real. When things were pictured to her 
imagination very vividly, she firmly believed 
that every thing had happened just as she 
fancied it ; nor could Mrs. Yarney make her 
understand how it was that her imagination 
deceived her, because Effie could not under- 
stand what imagination was. She delighted in 
fairy tales, and read them with a simple faith 
hi their truthfulness that nothing could shake ; 
and she frequently amused the other children 
by telling them the most wonderful stories, 
which she composed as she went on — telling 
them so earnestly, that it was plain to see she, 
at least, believed what she was saying. 

No snow had come yet. Clear blue skies, 
brilliant sunshine, mild days, and bitterly cold 
nights, with heavy frosts, continued. Effie 
heard Mr. Vane say there was much suffering 
among the poor, for every thing was up at war 
prices, and it just made paupers of those who 
were thrown out of employment by the stop- 
ping of manufactories, mills, and other failures, 


SNOW ANGEL. 


71 


and all charitable and benevolent persons were 
doing what they conld for the relief of the 
sufferers. But Effie had no actual knowledge 
of the poor, except a soldier’s widow whom her 
mamma relieved from time to time, and to 
whose little ones Effie’s outgrown garments 
found their way ; and an old black woman in 
the glen, who was nearly one hundred years 
old, the mother of Uncle Neb, who, I am sorry 
to say, was not a very dutiful son. The chil- 
dren said it was because he was so old that he 
forgot that Maum Gracy was his mother ; and 
maybe it was, for the old fellow was in his sev- 
enty-sixth year ! Mrs. Yane and all the Glen- 
Holme family were very kind to Maum Gracy, 
and sometimes Effie and Fan would carry wine 
and other nourishing things to the poor old 
creature. Sometimes Effie would go alone, and 
in the excess of her kindness she’d go out and 
gather fagots to make her fire; then set to 
and sweep her room ; and come home with her 
feet damp, her dress torn, her face covered 
with coal-dust, and her hair filled with ashes. 
She was so vigorous in all that she undertook, 


72 


SNOW ANGEL. 


that it was no unusual thing for her to come 
to grief. As one day, when Maum Gracy was 
very sick, she asked Effie to give her a sup of 
coffee from the bowl that sat near the fire, and, 
in her eagerness to oblige her, she poured the 
hot coffee down her throat, almost strangling 
her, and was so frightened at what she had 
done and the outcry made by Maum Gracy, 
that she dropped the bowl, spilling its contents 
in the old woman’s bosom. Effie was very 
sorry, but she laughed because Fan did, and 
they both did all that they could to dry and 
comfort her ; but she was in a great rage with 
them, and bade them go home and never dare 
to show their faces there again. So that put 
an end to Effie’ s philanthropic plans for the 
time being. She did, however, go to see Maum 
Gracy again. She went with Mrs. Yane, to 
beg her pardon for her carelessness, for she 
was really sorry for what had happened, al- 
though she meant no harm ; and she was re- 
stored to favor. After this she gave her some 
pennies every week from her pocket-money. 
But in all her various occupations and amuse- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


73 

ments, in all the excitement about Christmas, 
and the preparation and talk that was going 
on, she never forgot the Snow- Angel and the 
“ governor.” She longed to see them once 
more, and to hear the squirrels and birds talk. 
The African parrot could talk, but he only re- 
peated what others said, in English ; all his 
thinking talk was African lingo, that nobody 
ccxild understand. But Mrs. Yarney was posi- 
tive about the glen. She said that Effie had a 
slight fever every night, which Mrs. Germaine 
and the rest thought must be a mistake result- 
ing from her over-anxiety about the child, be- 
cause during the day she was the merriest and 
most blithesome of the little folk, with no sign 
of fever or lassitude about her. So Effie used 
to stand looking wistfully down on the lichen- 
covered rocks from her mamma’s window, 
watching the gay stream dancing along, and 
envying the brown leaves that whirled and 
danced withersoever they listed. One night, 
after sitting pensive and silent for some time, 
with her head resting on her mamma’s knee, 
and her kind hand folded in both her own, 
7 


n 


SNOW ANGEL. 


thinking of the beautiful spirit-maiden, she got 
up and went to the eastern window, pushed 
back the chintz curtains, and looked out. An 
exclamation of rapturous delight burst from 
her lips. 

“ Is it snow, Effie ?” asked Mrs. Yarney. 

“ Oh, no, mamma, but something very beau- 
tiful. You know the hill on the other side of 
the glen, that seems to run right into the sky ? 
Well, mamma, the full moon is resting exactly 
like a great golden bubble on the top of it ; and 
the stars, mamma, some of them, look as if 
they were dancing on the rim of the hill, and 
others appear through the trees, like gold and 
silver fruit growing on the boughs. And aw T ay 
up, hundreds of others are glittering like eyes. 
Mamma, I do believe, if I were out there on 
the hill, I cohid touch the moon. It is just as 
bright as day in the glen, and I’d give any 
thing if I could just patter down there in my 
bare feet, to have a peep at the squirrels.” 

“ And have your little red toes bitten by the 
frost,” observed Miss Yarney, laughing. “ 1 am 
afraid, mamma, that the child will be a poet.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


i o 


“ That would be glorious, mamma — would it 
not?” asked Effie, with her nose flattened 
against the window-pane. 

“ If you wrote glorious poetry it would be,” 
replied Mrs. Yane. “ Bad poetry, that vitiates 
the taste, had better be left unwritten.” Effie 
did not listen to the discussion, for, as she 
gazed up at the stars and watched the magnifi- 
cent moon rising slowly above the hill-top, she 
saw the Snow- Angel float over the glen — the 
Snow- Angel, but so like a wreath of mist, that 
she saw the stars glimmer through her shadowy 
raiment. But her luminous gray eyes were 
distinctly visible, and they lingered with a fond 
gaze on the . child until she faded from view. 
Effie’s heart beat wildly : she stretched her 
hands towards the glen, and uttered a cry in 
which the longing and desire of her poor little 
heart found vent. 

“ You had better come to bed, darling,” said 
Mrs. Yarney gently, for Effie had run to her 
mamma, and, burying her face in her bosom, 
had burst into tears. 

“ I declare, mamma, that child is so excitable, 
6 


76 


SNOW ANGEL. 


she will have brain-fever if we don’t take care. 
Come, little sister, let me unfasten your clothes 
and get you ready for a nice, long winter’-s 
nap.” And Effie let herself be undressed. She 
was very quiet, and said her prayers as usual, 
but I am sorry to own that her heart was in a 
perfect tumult about the Snow-Angel, and it 
was long before she fell asleep, although her 
head was pillowed on her mother’s bosom. 
The last thing she heard was : “ She is feverish 
again to-night.” 

“ What nonsense !” thought Effie. “ I am as 
well as well can be,” and then fairies and white 
roses began to float before her eyes. She was 
out dancing a quadrille with the stars on the 
liill-top — the stars, which winked and twinkled 
at her, and made the sweetest music as they 
tripped through the mazes of the dance. At 
last it all faded from her view, and she sank 
into a deep sleep, from which she was awakened 
by a mysterious rapping. One, two, three. 
One, two, three, four, five. One. Two. Three. 
And so it alternated — rapping and tapping. It 
seemed to be near her bed. She was thirsty, 


SNOW ANGEL. 


77 


and as her mamma was sleeping soundly she 
did not wish to disturb her, but got up without 
making the least noise, to get a drink of water 
from the table. The coal burned brightly in 
the grate, throwing a warm red glare all around ; 
the taper twinkled under the shade, and every 
thing looked so cozy about the large room, that 
even the portrait of her blue-eyed sister, who 
had gone to heaven years before, seemed to 
smile more sweetly on her ; and the violets, 
and hyacinths, and crocuses sent forth such a 
fragrance, that Effie felt more like having a 
dance over the soft carpet than going back to 
bed again : but she took her seat on the thick 
warm rug before the fire, stretched out her 
toes, and began to seek faces in the coals. 

Tap, tap, tap, sounded against the panel. 
“ That’s the ghost,” said Effie, looking around. 
She was startled, but seeing nothing, she be- 
gan to hunt up the faces again. Tap, tap, tap, 
tap, tap ! She got up and went over to the 
corner whence the taps proceeded, and knelt 
down to take a closer survey of the panel- 
ling, when lo ! two little eyes, round, black, 
7* 


78 


SNOW ANGEL. 


and bright, twinkled at her through the shad- 
ows. 

“ How do you do, Effie ?” said a small, tiny 
voice. 

“ How are you, governor ? I am so glad to 
see you ! Come in to the fire,” cried Effie, joy- 
fully. “ You look cold, and have got very gray 
since I saw you last.” 

“ Ah, young lady, the discontent of my people 
and the cares of State combined, are too much 
for me,” said the ground-squirrel, as he took 
his seat before the fire, and curled his gray tail 
thoughtfully around him. The poor little fel- 
low looked sad, and his beard and whiskers 
were almost white, while his cheeks hung 
loosely down on each side of his neck. 

“ I am sorry for you, governor,” said Effie, 
smoothing his head with her finger ; “ but 
please tell me how you got here ?” 

“ Our national granary is under this floor, 
young lady. I came up to make a reconnois- 
sance, news having reached us that a savage 
army of rats were about to attack it, and I 
thought it most prudent to secure a safe re- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


79 


treat in case they came upon us suddenly. 
This was some weeks ago. A few days ago 
another rumor reached us, and I ordered our 
sappers and miners to open a passage up into 
the wall, and by mistake we have bored into 
your room. This is a beautiful, bright room,” 
observed the governor, looking critically around. 

“ Don’t make the hole so large that the rats 
can get through. There’s nothing I am more 
afraid of,” said Effie. 

“ Oh, no ! we are better engineers than that. 
I fear we have disturbed you at night, for we 
have been obliged to move our provisions from 
the old place, and hickory nuts, when they rat- 
tle down the laths, make a great noise,” he 
observed, benignly. Effie laughed until her 
black eyes swam in tears. 

“And so it was you? We all thought it 
was a ghost. Maumy and Fan have been afraid 
of their lives to go up and down stairs at night, 
and Fan just tumbles from the top to the bot- 
tom, like a great rolling ball, if she hears the 
least scratch. Even Mr. Vane and mamma 
thought the raps very odd.” 


80 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ I am sorry that we disturbed the family,” 
replied the governor ; “ but it was a military 
necessity.” 

“ Never mind now. I am only glad that it is 
not a ghost who does it,” replied Effie. “ How 
are your people ?” 

“ In a very disgruntled, unhappy state,” he 
said, with a sad countenance. 

“ I am sorry to hear it,” replied Effie, pulling 
down a long face, while she wondered what 
“ disgruntled ” meant. “ What is the matter 
with them ?” 

“ They want snow, and we shall have no 
peace until it does snow ; but I can’t make it 
snow, and they seem to think that I can,” ex- 
claimed the poor little governor passionately. 
“ The fact is, young lady, we are in a bad way. 
Every thing goes wrong. Even the great 
Wheat nation is in open rebellion — ” 

“ Effie, my love,” said Mrs. Yarney, “ what 
are you doing up ?” 

“ I got up to get a drink of water, mamma,” 
said Effie. “ It is very nice here.” 

“ I will tell you all about the trouble if you 


SNOW ANGEL. 


81 


will come into the glen to-morrow,” whispered 
the governor. 

“ Bless me, Effie, did you see that mouse, 
dear ?” exclaimed Mrs. Yarney. 

“ No indeed, mamma, I did not see a mouse,” 
replied Effie, laughing in her sleeve, as she 
snugged down close to her mother’s side. She 
could scarcely sleep for thinking of her strange 
interview with the old Governor of Squirrel- 
dom ; and when she did, she slept so soundly 
that the prayer-bell did not awaken her the 
next morning at seven o’clock. 



82 


SNOW ANGEL. 


CHAPTER IV. 

ALL FOR THE WANT OF SNOW. 

And when Effie did fairly get her eyes open, 
she saw no glad sunshine streaming through 
the oriel window near her bed; the blue sky 
was covered with an unbroken array of dark, 
slate-colored clouds, and the soft southerly 
wind had fled away before an easterly storm, 
which dashed its heavy rain-drops against the 
window-panes with great fury. 

“Good for thirty-six hours, if a minute,” 
grumbled Maumy ; “ and by the time it’s over, 
honey, we’ll all be dead beat with the rlieuma- 
tiz ; and I’d like to know what sort of a Christ- 
mas we’s gwine to have? Come, Miss Effie, 
make haste and dress, you’re most always the 
last one down.” 

“ I don’t care if I am,” replied Effie shortly, 
“ I have so many things to do.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


83 


“Well chile, and is you never gwine to learn 
to do things spry? If you goes on creeping 
through the world that a’ away you’ll be a old 
woman afore you get half way ’cross : Lord 
sakes! you might a’ had on your stockings, 
and laced up your boots by this time. And 
you, Fan, you’s just as bad as she is, standin’ 
there swelling out your jaws a laughing ; in- 
stead of hurrying of her up,” observed Maumy, 
with her hands resting on her hips. Fan 
dodged behind the bed-curtains, and Effie re- 
plied snappishly — 

“ I reckon, Maumy, you had best let me be. 
I’ll take scoldings from no one except my 
mother — so there !” 

“ Your mamma and sister is been down this 
hour, miss, and sent me up to tell you to make 
haste down. Now I done told you ’cordin’ to 
orders, and you can do just as you please,” re- 
plied Maumy, curtseying and opening the door. 
When she got out of the room she chuckled, 
and muttered : “ Don’t them ’ere black eyes of 
her’n flash, though ! Hiyi ! but she’s a peert 
one ! I do wonder though what on the y earth 


84 . 


SNOW ANGEL. 


the chile ponders so about at that window ! Go 
in when you will, if she’s in thar, she’s stuck at 
that window, looking out. Thar’s nothing to 
see from thar now.” Just then she met the 
Germaine children rushing from their bedroom 
door towards the staircase. “ Look here, you 
all, is you just up ? You shan’t have one bit of 
breakfast, you sleepy-headed creturs.” 

“ I guess we will, then,” said Ida, reddening. 

“ You’re a set of lazy toads — to-morrow 
morning, mind, I’ll begin in yonder with Miss 
Effie, and go round and spank you every one 
out of bed,” said Maumy, shaking her turbaned 
head at the children. 

“I’d rather be a toad than a giraffe!” shouted 
Hal, jumping down two steps at a time. 

“You are a pres-dij-i-po-tater,” got out Dody 
with great difficulty. He had been one week 
trying to learn to say “ prestidigitateur,” and 
measuring its consequence by its length and 
his own labors, he hurled it at Maumy for a 
stunner! but instead of wincing, she made a 
dart at the group which sent them plunging 
down the staircase, and into the dining-room 
5 


SNOW ANGEL. 


85 


at double-quick ; laughing so merrily, and look- 
ing so bright, that the lecture which awaited 
them all from Mrs. Vane, was postponed to an 
indefinite period. She knew that they had 
seen her laugh when they came in, after which 
a lecture would have been breath wasted. Only 
she would not allow them to have hot waffles 
for breakfast. They pleaded and promised, but 
she was positive on that point, and they had to 
content themselves with cold biscuit. 

“ I like cold biscuits, Mrs. Vane,” said Dody, 
with a broad smile on his good-humored face. 

“ I am glad that you do, Dody. You can 
have them every morning by coming down late,” 
replied Mrs. Vane quietly. 

“ I don’t like them, but I don’t mind it much 
for once,” said Ida, highly indignant. 

“ I like biscuit, either hot or cold,” said Effie, 
tossing her head. 

Hal, who had the useful faculty of submitting 
himself with great amiability to “the situation,” 
whatever it might be, nibbled his in peace and 
without comment. 

Every thing seemed to be at cross-questions 
8 


86 


SNOW ANGEL. 


after breakfast. Effie, usually the ringleader 
in their sports, was silent and dull, and thought 
of nothing but of her disappointments about 
getting into the glen that day, of which it was 
plain to see there was no hope, on account of 
the storm. It was also very certain that if her 
respectable old friend, the governor, should 
venture out, he would surely come to grief. 
Even if it cleared off towards evening there was 
no possible way for him to cross the rivulet, 
which the rain had swollen into a creek, whose 
waters completely submerged the rocks, which 
formed natural bridges from one side to the 
other; and she feared that the rats would take 
advantage of the occasion to plunder the gra- 
nary of her favorites. “ I wish they knew how 
to make pontoons, poor little things !” she 
thought. But her thoughts were interrupted 
by a clamor of mirth. The boys had got into 
a gale of play ; Tip and Dixie had sneaked in, 
and before one knew where one was there arose 
such a clatter and jumping, such laughter, 
shouting, romping, and general uproar, that 
the walls shook. The two dogs barked shrilly ; 


SNOW ANGEL. 


87 


and Willie, the gray African parrot, shrieked 
“ Huzza ! huzza ! shut the door ! Kiss me, mis- 
tress! Effie! Whoop! Do — dee-e-e — ! Huzza,” 
and jumped into his ring, where he spun him- 
self around with shrill screams. So sudden 
and contagious was the storm of fun, that Ida 
and Effie, before they knew what they were 
about, were flying over the chairs and under 
the tables with Tip and Dixie, while Hal and 
Dody followed in close pursuit. In the midst of 
it all, there came a crash ! Some one, nobody 
could tell who, upset a valuable plant of Mrs. 
Vane’s, and broke it off close to the root. There 
was a sudden pause ; and, “ Oh ! ho !” “ I didn’t 
“You did it;” “No, it was Dixie;” “It was 
Dody;” “You jumped against the table, Effie!” 
“ It was you, when you fell down, Ida !” burst 
individually and collectively from the “ assem- 
bled multitude.” At this crisis the door opened, 
and Mr. and Mrs. Vane, Mrs. Germaine, and 
Mrs. Varney came in, brought together from 
every part of the house by the uproar; the 
sound of the fallen flower-pot, and the sudden 
lull which succeeded, led them to fear that they 


88 


SNOW ANGEL. 


should find, instead of broken crockery, broken 
heads or limbs. 

“ Oh, my beautiful plant !” exclaimed Mrs. 
Yane. “ Who did this mischief?” 

No one spoke. “Speak, Effie!” said Mrs. 
Yarney. 

“ I do not think that I did it, mamma !” said 
Effie, looking ruefully at the broken plant. 

“ Who did it, children ?” inquired Mrs. Ger- 
maine. 

“ I do not know, mamma. If I did it, I do not 
know how !” replied Ida. 

“ I might,” spoke up Hal, “ eh — when I 
turned — eh — head over heels off — eh — the sofa. 
Tip — eh — was after me, and — and we rolled off 
together.” 

“ It fell on my leg,” said poor little fat Dody, 
rubbing his shin ; “ and it hurts, it does so.” 

“Who brought the dogs in, little ones?” 
asked Mr. Yane, gravely. 

“ They stole in themselves, Mr. Yane,” said 
Dody, with a solemn countenance. 

“ I’ll tell you who broke the plant,” said Mr. 
Yane, looking gravely around the little flutter- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


89 


ing group ; “ it was a very troublesome fellow 
who did tbe mischief, and his name is — dis- 
obedience. Did you forget, children, that it is 
against the rules to romp about the house with 
the dogs ?” 

The children flushed up, hung their heads, 
and looked very sorry. They loved Mr. and 
Mrs. Yane very much, and were really grieved 
at what had happened. Not only looked sorry, 
but Effie and Ida asked Mrs. Yane’s forgive- 
ness for their thoughtless conduct, and prom- 
ised not to do the like again. Tip and Dixie 
knew that something was up, and sneaked off, 
and Hal and Dody crept to their mamma’s 
side. 

“Well, I hope, my dears, that you will be 
more careful in future,” said Mrs. Yane. “ I 
am extremely sorry to lose my beautiful plant 
which I have been so long watching, but if the 
accident makes you all more thoughtful in 
future, I shall be satisfied.” 

Mrs. Germaine and Mrs. Yamey expressed 
their concern at the ruin of the rare plant, 
upon whose stems two magnificent flowers were 
8 * 


90 


SNOW ANGEL. 


budding ; and told tlie children to come up- 
stairs into Mrs. Yarney’s room, where a council 
of ways and means was forthwith instituted, 
in reference to the plant. 1 

All were seated around the cheerful fire. 
Grave and subdued looks were in every coun- 
tenance except Dody’s, which would break into 
smiles like a full-moon in spite of the serious 
eyes that met his, which had the effect of only 
making him look down a little ashamed ; but 
the instant he raised his eyes again his lips 
would fly back, showing every tooth in his 
head. 

“ Children,” said Mrs. Germaine, “I am sure 
that you are sorry for what has happened. It 
was your carelessness and disobedience to- 
gether that caused the mischief. Now, what 
shall you do ? You have said that you are 
sorry, but that is not enough. Something- re- 
mains to be done.” 

“ What is it, mamma ?” inquired Ida. 

“Can — eh — we mend the — eh — plant, mam- 
ma ?” asked Hal. 

“ I guess I can stick it together with Spauld- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


91 


ing’s glue. Mr. Yane mended the table with 
some, and the leg was as strong as ever,” said 
Dody grayely ; “ but maybe it wouldn’t grow.” 
They all laughed. 

“ What do you think, Effie?” asked Mrs. Ger- 
maine. 

“ Couldn’t we buy another plant like it, for 
Mrs. Yane?” asked Effie, very earnestly. 

“ That is just it,” said Mrs. Germaine. 
“ You must all buy another like it at the city 
green-house ; but you must each one put in so 
much out of your own pocket-money to pay for 
it. Does that seem right ?” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed. That’s splendid !” cried 
the children, clapping their hands with delight 
at having the difficulty so nicely solved. “ We’d 
rather do that than to buy toys and goodies.” 
And they began to get uproarious over the 
clever scheme, when Mrs. Yarney observed : 
“ Children, I think that you have made noise 
enough for to-day, and if your mamma agrees, 
I’ll bargain with you for a story — Stop, and 
hear what I have to stay. I don’t intend to 
tell the story, but I wish each one of you to 


92 


SNOW ANGEL. 


write a nice little story, about any thing you 
please.’* 

“Yes, indeed, that is a very clever idea,” 
said Mrs. Germaine. 

“ But we can’t. "We do not know how,” ex- 
claimed the children. 

“ You all know how to write, except Dody,” 
observed Mrs. Germaine, “and you can but 
try. Dody must tell his little story, and Hal 
will write it off for him.” 

“ I’ll write a fairy tale,” said Effie, her eyes 
sparkling, and her face all aglow. 

“ I don’t think I can write a tale, mamma,” 
said Ida, in a despondent tone. “ I’ll try, 
though.” 

“ I’ll write a splendid one,” exclaimed Dody, 
snapping his fingers. 

“ I’ll try, too,” said Hal, rapping his knuckles 
on his head. “ Any thing in — eh — there ? If 
— eh — there be — come out.” The children 
laughed at the thought of Hal’s drumming up 
his ideas in that style. 

“ The tales or stories, when finished, are to 
be sealed up and handed to Mrs. Germaine, 


SNOW ANGEL. 


93 


and the day after Christmas she or I will read 
them aloud. Let me see. You have four days ; 
•why, that is almost time , enough to write a 
book in,” said Mrs. Yarney, encouragingly. 
The children all agreed to the plan, and paper 
and pencils being furnished them, all became 
quiet along the lines. 

Their lessons, the “ tales,” and their Christ- 
mas preparations, kept the children busy for a 
day or two, but not so busy that they could not 
every now and then find time for a good, whole- 
some romp — sometimes in their own rooms, 
but oftener at twilight with Mr. Yane, who, 
like Gulliver among the Lilliputians, towered 
up in their midst, immovable, while they hung 
on to his hands, and pulled at his coat skirts 
in the vain effort to dislodge him from his po- 
sition. Suddenly, when they least expected it, 
he would give way, and off would go his as- 
sailants, spinning backwards to the four quar- 
ters of the room, and end by finding themselves 
sitting squarely on the floor. 

It was Christmas eve, and the sun was shin- 
ing without a cloud to dim his brightness. A 


94 


SNOW ANGEL. 


high wind had dried the earth after the storm, 
and the weather was as mild as May. Miss 
Yarney was getting ready to go and see after 
the old black woman in the glen, who was again 
sick ; and she told Effie that if she would make 
haste and get on her wrappings, that she might 
come along. Mrs. Germaine and Mrs. Yarney 
had gone into the city, and taken Fan with 
them, to fetch out Mrs. Yane’s plant ; but it 
was to be kept a profound secret from her, for 
they desired to give her an agreeable surprise 
after the disagreeable one the children had 
treated her to. The plan was to place the 
flower among the other plants on the flower- 
stand the next morning ; and they almost hurt 
their sides laughing over all that they imagined 
she would say and do when she discovered it, 
which they supposed she would do when she 
went to water the flowers after breakfast, the 
time she usually attended to them. Oh, the 
chuckling, winking, and whispering that there 
was over this clever plan ! 

Miss Yarney carried a bowl of soup to the 
old sick woman, and Effie took her an orange 


SNOW ANGEL. 


95 


which she had bought for herself. It proved 
very refreshing to the poor old creature, who 
was very grateful to Effie for bringing it, which 
made the child happier than she had felt for 
days. She did not know it, but she was only 
feeling how much more blessed it is to give 
than to receive. Old Aunt Gracey asked Miss 
Yarney to read the “ prayers for the sick ” to 
her ; and she, fearing that Effie might get tired 
and fidget, told her that she might go for a 
little while into the glen. 

“ At last !” cried the child, as she bounded 
like a young roe over the mossy rocks. Her 
heart expanded in the bright and glorious sun- 
shine. She felt the influences of the balmy 
air in every fibre of her being. She sang 
snatches of song, she leaped and frisked about, 
half wild with joy. The rivulet, clear and tiny 
once more, sang its sweetest lay, and tossed up 
its bright spray in the sunlight. The mosses 
and lichens were so green after the two days’ 
rain, that the rocks looked like huge malakites 
on the hill-sides and in the glen. Numbers of 
ground-squirrels were sunning themselves, or 


96 


SNOW ANGEL. 


frisking up and down tlie trees and over the 
rocks. Two robins twittered at each other 
among the leafless branches. They said that 
summer was near at hand, and they were look- 
ing out for their cousins, the swallows, every 
day. " What a very short winter we have had, 
to be sure !” twittered the first. . 

“ This is a very nice place. I think I shall 
build here. Will you be my wife ?” twittered 
the other. / 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha !” laughed a ground-squirrel 
close beside Effie. “ I bespeak your eggs. 
We have famous good times bird-nesting in 
the spring.” 

“ You cruel little wretch !” stormed Effie, 
stamping her foot, “ you don’t mean to say 
that you steal the poor little birds’ eggs?” 
Nimble was so frightened that he did not 
stop to answer, but laid back his ears, lifted 
his tail, and streaked home in flying leaps. 
Effie laughed, and wished she could have 
pinched his tail before he got off. She then 
walked around, looking in every direction for 
the governor, but it was a long while before 


SNOW ANGEL. 


97 


she found him, and when she did he was so 
much altered that she scarcely knew him. He 
was sitting aloft in the hollow of a tree, with a 
sad and care-worn countenance. His coat was 
as rough as a motherless colt’s, and as the sun 
shone on him, she perceived that his poor little 
brown cheeks hung like two loose bags on 
each side his face. His eyes were - faded and 
hollow. He espied Effie, and a gleam of wel- 
come brightened his face, and he arose and 
held out his thin, tiny hand. 

“ I am so glad to see you ! I was afraid that 
we should never meet again,” said the gov- 
ernor. 

“ I could not get out for the rain,” replied 
Effie. “ Has the Snow- Angel been back 
again ?” 

“ Oh, no ! no ! no !” replied the governor, 
wringing his thin hands until the joints of his 
poor little fingers cracked. “ I should hope to 
see things settled if she came.” 

“ Will she never come again ?” asked Effie, 
anxiously. 

“I hope for her to come every hour,” he 
9 


93 


SNOW ANGEL. 


said, passing liis hand wearily over his fore- 
head. “ The fact is, my young friend, that our 
affairs grow worse and worse, and the silly 
squirrels all blame me. The weather continues 
so mild, that our enemies, the snakes, the rats, 
and the field-mice, prey on us — ” 

“ They don’t eat you — do they ?” exclaimed 
Effie, with horror. 

“ No,” replied the governor, with an air of 
desperation, “ they do worse than that ! They 
invite themselves into our houses, help them- 
selves to our substance, insult us, and make 
themselves disagreeable in every way. There’s 
a one-eyed snake and a toad in my house : they 
get into a fury if one but looks at them. They 
must have the best of every thing, and they put 
on the most insufferable airs.” 

“ Why don’t you put them out ?” asked Ef- 
fie, stoutly. 

“ Because we fear their venom, young lady. 
It is deadly poisonous. They know that we 
hate them. The snake sings — you never heard 
such a disagreeable voice in your life — and if 
we don’t fall down and adore her, and tell her 


SNOW ANGEL. 


99 


that she sings like a seraph, she lashes herself 
up into a fury, and glares at us as if she- would 
swallow us whole. As to the toad, he is a fool 
who thinks himself very smart, and talks and 
eats from morning until night, and has my 
whole family busy picking his nuts and grub- 
bing for worms all day for his table. We have 
a miserable time of it. You see, if it would set 
in for a regular snow, and we could have hard 
winter-weather, these wretches and marauders 
would go to sleep, and be no more trouble to 
us.” 

“ Is every house plagued in the same way ?” 

“ Every one, more or less. There’s but one 
remedy.” 

“ What is that ?” inquired Effie, with great 
curiosity. 

“ We’ll have to send a messenger to the 
Snow-King, to make known our case.” 

“ The Snow-King ? Who is he ?” asked the 
child, in simple wonder. 

“ He is the father of Elakana — Elakana, the 
Snow- Angel.” 

“ And where does he live ?” 


100 


SNOW ANGEL. 


44 Did you. ever notice a bright star over 
there,” said the governor, pointing to the 
north, 44 that never changes its position ? That 
light, which mortals call a star,” continued the 
governor, with a slightly contemptuous twist of 
his head at the ignorance of men, 44 is nothing 
more nor less than the lamp that is kept for- 
ever burning on the chief watch-tower of the 
Snow-King’s dominions.” 

“Indeed! How strange! Were you ever 
there ?” 

“No, but last winter a wild-bird that fell 
wounded down there by my house, told me that 
she had been there several times. Her com- 
panions were on their way there when she was 
shot — poor thing ! — shot by a man for mere 
sport.” 

“And what did she tell you?” asked Effie, 
earnestly. 

44 She said that the sun shines there at mid- 
night, and that the palaces were built of pure 
crystals, and inhabited by angels, who wear 
raiment like the rainbow, with jewels on their 
heads and arms !” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


101 


“ Oh, how much I should like to go to that 
beautiful country !” exclaimed Effie, quite en- 
raptured. 

“Yes,” continued the crafty old governor, 
“ and she said that the skies there are pink, 
and that sparkling diamonds as big as your fist 
are flashing and dancing all over them ; and 
that the people fly over the snowy plains and 
frozen oceans on sleds drawn by white rein- 
deer, whose feet make a musical sound like 
bells, as they run. And animals with hair like 
horses, and dolphins, and walruses, come up 
out of the sea with baskets of pearls and corals, 
which they strew, along the shore for any one 
who desires to pick them up.” 

“See here, governor!” exclaimed Effie trem- 
bling with excitement ; “ would I do to go to the 
Snow-King?” 

“ You , young lady ! If we could only hope 
for such an envoy, our troubles would soon be 
at an end,” replied the governor with well-dis- 
sembled surprise, while he whisked his tail with 
rapture, and bowed his poor wrinkled little face 
low on his breast. 


9 * 


102 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ But see here, governor, how ever am I to 
get there ?” 

“Angel Elakana will conduct you, if you 
really desire to do a generous act towards a 
suffering people. But I think I hear the lions 
coming!” he exclaimed, shivering with terror, 
as the sharp barking of the two dogs echoed 
through the glen. “ I must bid you farewell, 
lovely friend. Go up into yonder field and 
put your ear close down to the earth, and you 
will hear stranger things than any that I 
have told you.” The Glen-Holme dogs came 
springing down over the rocks into the glen, 
and the governor, with wonderful agility, but 
panting and trembling, made his way swiftly 
up the tree, to the very topmost branch, where 
he sat, indulging in sage reflections on the 
folly of so many different creatures being 
placed upon earth. His opinion was, that 
ground-squirrels would have been sufficient for 
all useful and peaceful purposes ; while Effie, 
full of all she had heard concerning the land 
of the Snow-King, went springing up the steep 
hill-side, hanging on to the bushes and wild 


SNOW ANGEL. 


103 


vines, until slie got to the top, where she found 
a low stone wall, up which she climbed, and 
over she went — on her nose, into the field. As 
she laj there nearly stunned, she heard the 
strangest sounds about her! She could not 
tell for the life of her where they came from. 
It appeared to be a barren field into which she 
had pitched herself headlong, and she saw 
nothing about her but rough clods of earth, 
without the slightest particle of vegetation ; 
but still she heard the strange noises, heard a 
creaking, wailing, sobbing, praying, and com- 
plaining, all together ! At length there came 
a pause in the general hubbub, and a small 
voice close to her ear said : “ It’s no use to 
struggle against fate. W^ are abandoned by 
the Snow- Angel, and must perish.” 

“ Who are you, and where are you ?” inquired 
Effie. 

“ Look to your right, just near your thumb, 
in the broken earth,” said the voice. 

Effie looked at the spot indicated, but saw 
nothing except a grain of wheat with a little 
yellow sprout, like a tail, which wagged to and fro. 


104 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ Is it you?” asked Effie, touching the grain 
with her finger. 

“ It’s nobody else !” answered the wheat ; “ a 
poor used-up, struggling individual, just caved 
in — or rather out,” it added. 

“ What in the world is the matter ?” asked 
Effie, laughing heartily. 

“I fear that your heart is not in the right 
place, child, or you would not deride the 
woes of a whole nation,” said the wheat, 
sharply. 

“ Gracious only knows what you mean,” said 
Effie ; “ but I’d be willing to cry my eyes out if 
that would help my country.” 

“ Your country !” exclaimed the wheat in a 
tone of bitter contempt. “Without us what 
would your country be ? We are king !” 

“Are you?” said Effie, meekly; while she 
thought, “ a pretty king you are, stuck down 
there in the mud !” 

“ Yes, we are King, because we are Bread. 
Bread is King, is it not ?” 

“ I. don’t understand politics, but I expect 
you are right. I only know that I would rather 


SNOW ANGEL. 


105 


have a jolly slice of bread and butter when I 
am hungry than plum-cake.” 

“There’s some sense in that,” replied the 
wheat, more gently. “Are you the maiden 
whom the governor of the ground-squirrels 
promised to send ?” 

“ Yes, and he promised me that you would 
tell me strange things. The poor old governor 
is in bad spirits.” 

“ AU for the want of snow ,” sighed the wheat. 
“ Our armies are not prepared ,to resist the 
sharp lances of King Frost, who is our great 
enemy. We have not had a chance to form 
our spears, and we are slain and wxmnded by 
thousands and tens of thousands. Besides 
which, our enemy sends us earthquakes every 
day. When the legions of frost disappear the 
earthquakes commence, our cells are destroyed 
and we are thrown out lifeless among the ruins.” 

“ Dear me ! how very sad !” said Effie, quite 
touched. 

“ If the Snow-Angels would only come — 
the beautiful, soft, gentle Snow- Angels !” sighed 
the wheat. 


106 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ How can they help yon ?” 

“ They could save us. You see, little maiden, 
when the Snow-Angels come in millions, and 
millions, and millions, and camp over our 
country, each one brings a crystal pitcher 
with him, containing a cordial which they dis- 
tribute in small rations to our people, to whom 
they also give white fleecy blankets ; none of 
your shoddy stuff — but a warm, good article, 
which not only keeps us warm, but is also a de- 
fence against our enemies. Now, without this 
cordial and the blankets, we nearly all perish, 
and the few who are left are gobbled up by 
the marauders of General Worm and Colonel 
Bust. I’d as lief be a tare at once. It is very 
hard for a person of my ancient family to be so 
reduced. Tares seem to thrive,” said the wheat 
in a voice of utter disgust. 

“Is not all wheat alike?” asked Efffe, in- 
nocently. 

But she had raised a storm ! The wheat 
turned heels over head, and sat wagging its tail 
furiously. 

“ Alike, indeed ! You must be nobody your- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


107 


self to imagine such a thing ! But I’ll excuse 
you on account of your ignorance. Child, my 
ancestors came of the first families of Egypt ; 
and when the great Sesostris died, three or 
four of the chiefs of my race were chosen to 
guard his body in the pyramids by the Nile. 
They watched his dead body faithfully for 
three thousand years, then suddenly a mon- 
ster — called an Englishman — came and stole 
it, and after rifling it of all its treasures, handed 
my progenitors to his gardener, who buried 
them in the earth. These sprang up and bore 
seed, the grandest, stateliest wheat that was 
ever seen, and people sent from all parts of the 
world for it ; and that’s how I am here.” 

“I am very sorry for you. Perhaps — but 
what are those funny little things that I see 
down there in that hole ?” asked Eifie, leaning 
over. 

“ Nothing but two tomtits and a butterfly 
that I tried to keep life in ; but after dojng my 
best, they died, poor little beggars ! But what 
were you going to say ?” 

“ Oh — I was going to say that perhaps I 


108 


SNOW ANGEL. 


might go soon to the Snow-King, to ask him to 
send the Snow- Angels,” said Effie. 

“ Accept my homage,” said the wheat, bow- 
ing ; “ it will be a great act to save a nation.” 

“ I must go now,” said Effie. “ My sister is 
waiting for me. Shall I cover you up ?” 

“ Oh, no. It is no use. But, on second 
thoughts, you may.” And Effie gently spread 
the mould over the unfortunate wheat, crum- 
bling the hard lumps between her dimpled 
hands, and began to pat it down for better 
security against the frost that night, when she 
heard a smothered screaming, and cries of 
“ Don’t, don’t, you cruel wretch ! You’ll smother 
me ! Begone, and leave me !” 

Frightened half out of her wits, Effie jumped 
up and ran as fast as she could go, scrambled 
over the wall without accident, and quickly 
reached the house of the old woman in the 
glen, just as her sister finished reading the 
Litany for her. 


SNOW ANGEL 


109 


CHAPTER Y. 

CHRISTMAS DAY. 

Just a little while after tea that evening, the 
man who had been spoken to, to cut the Christ- 
mas-trees, made his appearance with them,, 
thereby causing intense excitement among the 
children, who seemed as if they would never 
grow tired of admiring them. They firmly be- 
lieved that there was nothing half so beautiful, 
of the kind, to be found in the forests of the 
whole earth, and revelled in “ great expecta- 
tions,” and delighted in the mystery that in- 
vested the arrangements for the next day. 
They plotted among themselves to go to bed 
early that night, so as to be out of the way, 
that people might have time and opportunity 
to decorate the trees without hurry. Their an- 
ticipations were gorgeous, and they all declared 
that they wouldn’t look at any of the pretty 
10 


110 


SNOW ANGEL. 


things they expected, if they were spread out 
before them ! No, indeed ! “ they would shut 
their eyes tight up. They didn’t want even to 
hear a word about what they were going to 
get.” Effie had the curtains, which hung like a 
tent over her mamma’s bed, drawn close to- 
gether and pinned, so that there was not even 
a crevice through which she could peep, if 
tempted to do so ; then she curled herself up 
like a dormouse under the blankets, just leaving 
the tip of her nose out, like a seal in the water, 
for breath. She knew that her mamma and 
sister would fix up her tree beautifully, and she 
thought how splendid it would look in the 
bright gas-light. I do not know whether it 
was that Effie was more tired out than usual, 
or whether it was because the light was en- 
tirely excluded from her eyes by the closing of 
the bed-curtains, but it is very certain that in 
a short time she was sound asleep. 

The little Germaines went giggling to bed, 
and got their nurse to hang a counterpane be- 
fore their Christmas-tree, for fear they might 
wake up and see it in the night ; then, after 


SNOW ANGEL. 


Ill 


considerable whispering with each other, and 
smothered laughter under the quilt, they be- 
came quiet, and were feeling sleepy, when Hal 
and Dody, unknown to each other, peeped out, 
and catching a glimpse of something very bright 
and glittering through a 'hole in the counter- 
pane, they bobbed their heads under at the 
same moment. Crash came their foreheads to- 
gether, with such a bump that they saw stars, 
and thought the day of judgment was come ! 
Then there was a suppressed roar, a few sniffs 
and sobs, which grew fainter and fainter, and 
at last all became quiet. 

Effie awoke once during the night, and heard 
men’s voices talking in a low tone just under 
her mamma’s window ; then she heard heavy 
footsteps ascend to the hall-door ; then $ome 
one give a great pull at the bell. It was Chris- 
tingle, she was sure ! But perhaps it might be 
robbers ! Oh, dear, what a frightful idea ! 
and she drew up close to her mamma, trem- 
bling and chilled with terror ; but she would 
not awaken her, because she knew that it 
always made her ill to lose her night’s rest : so 


112 


SNOW ANGEL. 


she lay there, almost breathless, listening to 
every sound. Doors opened and shut, people 
seemed to be going up and down stairs, and 
something heavy appeared to be put down on 
the parlor floor. Presently she heard Mr. 
Yane laugh, then Mrs. Yane called “ Maumy” 
softly, and Effie felt no longer frightened, 
knowing that if Mr. and Mrs. Yane and 
Maumy were up and about, there could be no 
danger. 

Near morning ! Five o’clock, the old time- 
piece said. The heavens were purple in their 
deep stillness, and the stars, glittering and 
tremulous, seemed to be rejoicing together. 
A hoar-frost sparkled over the earth, and pow- 
dered the trees and shrubs with its tiny gems. 
All was silent except the wind, which came 
piping shrilly around the gables of Glen- 
Holme, and it was bitterly cold. Did it look 
like this on that night long, long ago, when the 
weary, drowsy shepherds on the hills of Gali- 
lee were startled into strange wonder by the 
far-off song of the angelfc of God — the jubilant 
angels, who were descending swiftly, clothed in 


SNOW ANGEL. 


113 


shining white, and full of joy at the message 
they brought from heaven, of “ Peace on earth 
and good-will to men ?” And when the simple 
shepherds, almost dead with terror at the glory 
of the heavenly visitors, fell on their faces, the 
angels, full of love and compassion, sang : “ Be 
not afraid. We bring you glad tidings of great 
joy. The Messiah is born. Go ye. into Beth- 
lehem and adore the Divine Babe, whom ye 
will find in a manger, wrapped in swaddling 
bands, and watched by his Virgin Mother. A 
bright star shines over the spot. Come, let us 
go and adore him.” It must have been just 
such a clear and tranquil night as this when 
that wonderful mystery occurred, the glorious 
mystery of the birth of Christ the Lord. Re- 
member it, little ones, in your Christmas joys. 
Think how He came, in the humble guise of a 
child born in poverty, for your salvation. You 
are not too young to think of these things, and 
to know how He loves children who offer the 
first-fruits of their lives at his crib, with the 
shepherds and the magi ; and who, amidst 
their own prosperity and happiness, do not for- 


114 


SNOW ANGEL. 


get the children of poverty and want. When- 
ever yon see a poor little ragged child, think of 
the Child Jdsus, who was born in a stable, 
poor and outcast ; and believe me, little ones, 
that whatever you do unto that one, whether 
much or less, you do unto the Christ Child. He 
has said that “ whatsoever ye do unto the 
least of these, ye do unto me.” Let the thought 
of Jesus mingle with your Christmas joys ; it 
will not cloud them ; it will not lessen your 
cheer, but only sanctify and brighten the hours 
still more as they glide past. 

We have said that it was bitterly cold that 
night, or rather that morning. Even the dogs 
sought shelter, and the sentries in a camp near 
by had to walk briskly to keep their toes and 
ears from freezing. But within, at Glen-Holme, 
there was light and warmth. In Mrs. Ger- 
maine’s room a magnificently decorated tree, 
loaded with beautiful things, flashed and glit- 
tered in the red fire-light. 

In Mrs. Varney’s apartment stood another, 
gleaming and glittering with its precious freight 
-of golden balls, bonbons, sugar butterflies with 


SNOW ANGEL. 


115 


gilded wings, and white birds half hidden be- 
tween the dark green leaves. Above all shone 
a large star, and upon the table on which the 
tree stood were arranged the toys, books, and 
other gifts. 

General Germaine and his brave young sons 
had arrived in a train that passed through Wi- 
nona a little after midnight. Effie’s brother 
had also come. This, then, was the bustle that 
the child had heard and could not account for. 

The morning arose bright and glorious. Mr 
and Mrs. Vane, Mrs. Germaine, and Miss Var- 
ney were up. Suddenly there arose on the 
morning stillness the sound of music. It 
sounded like an organ. Then swelled out loud, 
sweet voices, singing, “ Come, let us adore 
Him,” led by a tenor inexpressibly clear and 
fine. Mrs. Varney lifted her head from her 
pillow, and, leaning on her elbow, listened with 
deep emotion to that concert in honor of the 
birth of Christ. But the organ was a mystery. 
There was nothing of the sort about the house. 
Onward and upward pealed the hymn. 

“ Oh, mamma, what is that ? It sounds like 


116 


SNOW ANGEL. 


the angels who sang to the shepherds,” ex- 
claimed Effie, who had just awakened. 

“ It does, indeed, darling. Eise quickly and 
dress. This is a day of great joy — don’t you 
remember ?” 

“ Oh yes, mamma ; a happy Christmas to 
you, and Christmas gift !” exclaimed Effie, 
springing up. In another moment, her bare 
feet twinkling over the carpet, she was beside 
her Christmas-tree. The joyful, beautiful sight, 
and the music together, were too much for her, 
and she fell to dancing round and round — an 
innocent dance, which only expressed by har- 
monious action the happiness and gratitude of 
her impulsive little heart. There stood her 
doll, in lace and silken attire of red, white, and 
blue. There was a kitchen, and beside the 
stove, leaning back in her chair quite at ease, 
a negro servant. Another one stood at the 
dresser, with biscuit-board and rolling-pin be- 
fore her. And then there was a real bedstead, 
with a real feather-bed and pillows, real blan- 
kets, sheets, a chintz spread, and ruffled pillow- 
cases. The two things she had most wished 


SNOW ANGEL. 


117 


for ! A set of mahogany furniture, and a par- 
lor — books, tea-set, box of furniture, china 
dolls, and many other things. 

“ Oh, mamma, how good the Christ Child has 
been to me ! I must thank Him right off,” and 
Effie ran and knelt down in the oratory, and 
said her prayers, offering her heart with simple 
faith to the Divine Child of Bethlehem. From 
the parlor below still uprose the' hymn, the 
floating music, the soaring voices, and to the 
child it all seemed like heaven. Presently a 
door across the hall opened, and shouts of 
childish glee and the sounds of dancing pat- 
tering feet were added to the chorus. Mrs. 
Yarney’s door was open, and she looked out, 
and, amidst the strong lights of fire and the 
tapers on the Christmas-tree in Mrs. Germaine’s 
room, she saw three little figures in white night- 
gowns, wild with delight, circling round and 
round the festal tree, whose boughs were laden 
with more beautiful fruit than they had ever 
read of, even in fairy tales — uttering exclama- 
tions of wonder and delight, singing snatches 
of songs and hymns, and resisting stoutly all 


118 


SNOW ANGEL. 


attempts of their nurse to dress them, — resisted 
until, during a slight pause in their tumult, they 
heard the music and the voices ; then it was 
who should get dressed first ! Katy kindly 
aided each one in completing his simple toilet, 
and down they started just as Effie left her 
door. “ Christmas gift ! Christmas gift !” was 
shouted from one to the other. Then they all 
swept like a whirlwind into the parlor — the 
parlor lighted up and dressed with evergreens, 
and where on one side, amidst the radiance of 
wax candles, a group surrounded a “ melo- 
deon,” at which sat General Germaine, playing 
the accompaniment and leading the sacred 
hymn. Mrs. Germaine leaned on her brave 
husband’s shoulder, overflowing with quiet hap- 
piness, which found vent in notes of praise to 
God, who had brought him safely out of the 
fiery perils of war ; not only him, 'but her two 
young and gallant sons also, who, in their uni- 
forms of blue and gold, stood with Eflie’s 
brother and sister near her. Mr, and Mrs. 
Vane, whose faces wore a sweet and solemn 
expression, completed the group, and added 


SNOW ANGEL. 


119 


tlieir full and musical voices to swell the Christ- 
mas hymn. The last notes were dying away 
when the children rushed in. Clasping arms, 
warm kisses, and loving words, greeted the 
noisy little revellers, who, as insatiate as 
leeches, shouted lustily, “ Christmas gift ! 
Christmas gift ! Christmas gift !” until the gray 
African parrot, who had been sitting in his 
ring dumb with amazement at the music, 
shouted at the top of his lungs : “ Shut up ! 
Willie’s mad ! Shut up ! Hoo-oo-e-oo-ee-e !” 
and the two dogs, who had been sitting in pro- 
found cogitation on the rug, as much mystified 
as the parrot by the strange, sweet music, 
thought their time had now come. They could 
understand the uproar that now burst around 
them, sweeter sounds to them by far than harps 
or dulcimer ; and up they sprang, Tip seizing 
Dody by his jacket, and Dixie Effie by her 
skirt, pulling and tugging, until a general 
melee ensued, which ended in a promiscuous 
tumbling down of children and dogs. It was 
against the law, but they had been inveigled 
into it so suddenly that there was no time for 


120 


SNOW ANGEL. 


thought. Mr. Yane expelled Tip and Dixie 
without ceremony, and, calling the children 
around them, asked them “ if they should not 
like to sing the Christmas Carol which they had 
been practising some time ?” No need for 
words — assent was in every countenance. Gen- 
eral Germaine had the music before him, and 
when Mr. Yane raised his clear full voice, and 
began the words — 

“ Carol, carol, Christians, 

Carol joyfully ! 

Carol for tlie coming 
Of Christ’s nativity,” 

the children sang with all their heart and 
soul ; their eyes brightening, their cheeks 
glowing, and the happy smiles of childhood 
dimpling their innocent faces. The general 
played the accompaniment with rich and 
solemn emphasis, and every eye was moistened 
as the clear treble of the childish voices rang 
out loud and sweet, hymning the sacred carol 
in honor of “ Christ’s nativity !” Those tender 
mothers there present could but think of that 
sinless Mother who watched beside her divine 


SNOW ANGEL. 


121 


Babe in the stable at Bethlehem, “through 
whose heart a sword was to pass,” and they 
wondered how the future, which now appeared 
so dark with wars and commotions, would be 
for them ; and their hearts trembled, as they 
commended their loved ones, great as well as 
small, to the care of Him who had once as- 
sumed the guise of a little child for their sal- 
vation. 

Each one had a gift for the servants, who 
were just as happy as the children. As to 
Maumy, she was quite beside herself, over the 
dolls, toys, and picture-books ; and Fan, who 
had also received several nice gifts, was serenely 
happy, her clean yellow face beaming like the 
newly risen moon. After breakfast, Mrs. Vane 
wondered why the children did not go up to 
their trees and toys. She had given Effie a 
beautiful set of mahogany parlor furniture for 
her doll, and Ida a silver “ sewing-bird but still 
they lingered so demure, and yet apparently so 
full of some mystery, that she could not ac- 
count for it. Presently she went towards the 
flower-stand to water her flowers : the children 
11 


122 


SNOW ANGEL. 


fluttered, and nudged each other, their eyes 
following her to the window, full of expec- 
tation. 

“Why, where in the world did this come 
from?” suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Yane in a 
tone of great surprise, as her eyes fell on a 
magnificent specimen of the plant which had 
been broken the week before by the children — 
in full flower, and rich with fragrance. 

“We got it, Mrs. Yane!” shouted Dody, 
turning heels over head in the exuberance of 
his delight. 

“All of us!” added Hal, dancing. 

“ Why, you dear little ones !” cried Mrs. 
Yane, “I didn’t dream of so pleasant a surprise 
as this. I thought all the morning that I per- 
ceived a strange fragrance in the room. It is 
perfectly splendid ! Come and kiss me !” Up, 
then, they all trooped to be kissed, glowing 
and smiling with satisfaction at the success of 
their well-planned surprise. Before church- 
time came they had each one selected, from 
among their treasures, a portion for old Aunt 
Gracey and the poor soldier’s orphans; not 


SNOW ANGEL. 


123 


broken or defaced things, but some of the 
prettiest and nicest. I am sure I saw some 
gold and silver balls, sugar-kisses, oranges, 
figs, toys, and cakes in the basket, into which 
they were packing them. After which, cloaked 
and wrapped snugly in furs, the young troop 
sallied forth with their elders, to their respec- 
tive places of worship. Then all was once 
more “ quiet along the lines.” Mrs. Yarney 
and her son, whom she had not seen for some 
months, had much quiet and sad conversa- 
tion together ; the upshot of which was, that 
the family were to return to Washington in the 
spring, where Mrs. Yarney ’s second daughter, 
Mary — who was married to an officer of the 
army, and lived at West Point with her husband 
and little daughter — expected to meet them. 

A noble dinner awaited the church-goers 
upon their return. First, mock-turtle soup. A 
great turkey, garnished with tufts of parsley, 
and flowers cunningly chiselled out of beet- 
roots, carrots, and slices of turnips — which, 
placed among the green parsley-leaves, really 
looked like white and red roses and mari- 


124 


SNOW ANGEL. 


golds! There was a baked ham; a pan of 
boiled fowls, fried oysters, cranberry sauce, 
vegetables, pickles, pies of minced meat, plum- 
pudding, calves’ feet jelly, fresh peaches and 
cream, preserved strawberries and cream, 
blanc-mange, tarts — which altogether formed 
several courses. It was as good as a play to 
see Maumy’s look of satisfied pride, as she 
moved with dignity around the table, “ king 
behind the throne” in all that appertained to 
the arrangements of the various courses. 
Wishing each one to enjoy and appreciate 
every delicacy set before them, she watched 
vigilantly so that none should overeat himself 
at any particular course ; and when the banquet 
was over, and she had drank in to her entire 
satisfaction all the compliments, verbal and 
practical, which were bestowed upon it, she felt 
as if a great event had been achieved, and her 
small black eyes glistened under her turban 
of orange and crimson bandanna, like two 
diamonds set in jet. 

In the afternoon there were great prepara- 
tions making to attend Mr. Yane’s Sunday- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


125 


school festival, which was to be held in tne 
large saloon of the Town Hall, in Winona. The 
carriage was to go and come twice for the in- 
mates of Glen-Holme. The servants were to 
walk over : but as to that, “ Old Sledge” knew 
there was something in the wind, and stuck up 
his ears, shook his mane, and neighed at such 
rate, that Mr. Vane said he “ looked as if he 
wanted to carry all the neighborhood to the 
festival.” Dody said, “ maybe he was wishing 
us all a happy Christmas.” And so he was, for 
Effie heard him, as plain as plain can be ; and 
the fun of it was, he thought that they all un- 
derstood him. But she kept her secret grave- 
ly, and patted “Old Sledge” on his haunches, 
which made him neigh right out with delight. 

An immense Christmas-tree, beautifully lit 
up with tapers, stood on a long table at the 
upper end of the saloon. From its boughs 
hung the gay and pretty prizes that were to be 
awarded to each one of the Sunday school 
pupils who had good-conduct and merit- 
tickets to show. Piles of books, some in scar- 
let and some in blue bindings, with beautiful de- 
ll* 


126 


SNOW ANGEL. 


vices in gold on the backs and gilt-edged leaves, 
were temptingly displayed under the tree. Be- 
yond these stood baskets full of delicious cakes, 
oranges, apples, almonds, and raisins, candies 
and bonbons, provided by the ladies of the 
congregation. Mr. Yane made the children a 
short address, which very plainly expressed the 
deep interest that he felt in them, spiritually 
and temporally ; after which, they all sang with 
him in fine style the 

CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

I. 

Carol, carol, Christians, 

Carol joyfully ! 

Carol for the coming 
Of Christ’s nativity ; 

And pray a gladsome Christmas 
For all good Christian men. 

Carol, carol, Christians ! 

For Christmas comes again. 

Chorus. — Carol, carol, Christians, etc. 


n. 

Go ye to the forest, 
Where the myrtles grow. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


127 


Where the pine and laurel 
Bend beneath the snow ; 

Gather them for Jesus, 

Wreathe them for his shrine. 
Make his temple glorious 
With the box and pine. 

Chorus. 

hi. 

Wreathe your Christmas garland, 
Where to Christ we pray ; 

It shall smell like Carmel 
On our festal day ; 

Libanus and Sharon 
Shall not fairer be 
Than our sacred Altar 
On Christ’s nativity. 

Chorus. 


iv. 

Carol, carol, Christians I 
Like the magi now, 

Ye must lade your caskets 
With a solemn vow ; 

Ye must have sweet incense, 
Myrrh and finest gold, 

At our Christmas Altar 
Humbly to unfold. 


Chorus, 


128 


SNOW ANGEL. 


Y. 

Blow, blow up the trumpet 
For our joyful feast ! 

Gird thine armor, Christian, 
Put on thy surplice, priest I 
Go ye to the Altar, 

Pray with fervor, pray 
For Jesus’ second coming 
And the Latter Day. 

Chorus. 


yi. 

Give us grace, 0 Saviour, 

To put off in might 
Deeds and dreams of darkness 
For the robes of light 1 
And to live as lowly 
As Thyself with men ; 

So to rise in glory 
When thou com’st again. 

Chorus. — Carol, carol, Christians, 

Carol joyfully ! 

Carol for the coming 
Of Christ’s nativity. Carol, carol. 

Those were the words of the carol. Not only 
did Mr. Yane and the children sing, but all who 


SNOW ANGEL. 


129 


were present joined in the chorus with such 
hearty good-will, that the walls of the spacious 
saloon fairly trembled with the notes of the 
solemn and joyful lay. After the sounds had 
died away, and the eyes that had filled and 
brimmed over with tears of unspeakable emo- 
tion were dried, Mr. and Mrs. Yane distributed 
premiums to the expectant candidates, and gifts 
and refreshments to all the little ones present. 
Every one was gay with a blithesome and in- 
nocent gladness ; each countenance was lit up 
in the radiance outflowing from the crib of the 
Holy Child Jesus,* in whose honor the sad and 
careworn of the earth, weary and sighing be- 
neath the burden of life, turn willingly aside to 
make children happy, blessing in their hearts 
the holy festival, which carries them back to 
the sinless hours of their own youth, and to 
faces and smiles faded and buried long ago. 

Suddenly the saloon was darkened. Some 
felt frightened, some laughed, others stumbled 
and fell, as they tried to scramble back to their 
seats; then a clapping of hands was heard in 
one corner, and a shout of “ Magic Lantern ! 


130 


SNOW ANGEL. 


Magic Lantern !” arose. That was it ! Mr. 
Yane’s great Magic Lantern, for which he had 
purchased some new and beautiful transpar- 
encies for the occasion, was about to be ex- 
hibited. Every thing was soon arranged ; the 
powerful lamp was lighted, and darting its 
rays through the lens, formed a large white 
disk on the wall, as round as a cheese. “ Oh ! 
oh ! oh my ! How funny ! How bright ! How 
strange !” were the expressions buzzed around 
on every side, as each one’s eyes, widely opened, 
watched for fresh wonders. They did not wait 
long. 

“I will show you,” said Mr. Yane, “the Na- 
tivity first ; the divine Child on the bosom of 
his Yirgin Mother, St. Joseph standing near 
the manger, the oxen, the shepherds with the 
firstlings of their flocks, the Magi with their 
precious gifts, all offering adoration to the Son 
of God.” There it all was sure enough, richly 
delineated on the wall in bright and glowing 
colors, like a splendid fresco painting, while 
the various personages of the sacred tableau 
were nearly the size of life. Amidst gold- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


131 


tinted clouds hanging above the Holy Family 
were seen hovering the angels who had 
brought the tidings of peace and good-will 
from heaven to earth, while in the distance 
arose the mountains of Judea and the blue 
hills of Moab ! The children had never in all 
their lives seen any thing which they thought 
half so beautiful, and they whispered their de- 
light with a sort of intuitive reverence to their 
parents and to each other. Only one irre- 
pressible little voice burst out with : “ Don’t I 
wish I had been there 1” No one knew who it 
was, and it seemed so natural an expression of 
the feelings of all present, that it was not even 
an interruption. But the scene was fading ! 
The beautiful tableau had vanished. 

“Now,” said Mr. Yane, “I will show you the 
Israelites going out of Egypt, and the drown- 
ing of the hosts of Pharaoh in the Bed Sea. 
You all know the story.” In an instant the 
sandy plains of Egypt were spread out to view. 
There were the distant Pyramids, the mys- 
terious Nile, and the Obelisks and Monoliths 
that ornamented the roadsides which led from 


132 


SNOW ANGEL. 


the cities into the desert; the roads crowded 
with an endless multitude of men, young and 
old, women and children — camels and mules, 
loaded with treasures and household goods, 
and the sick and infirm — and oxen, sheep, and 
horses — all marching with exultant steps out of 
the land of their captivity and oppression 
towards the Bed Sea. But little can be said 
as to the artistic execution of the scene, for 
the higli-peaked hats, odd-looking dresses, and 
fierce strutting of the men, who, with a broad 
grin on their countenances, which were turned 
towards the audience, seemed to challenge ad- 
miration, made the children laugh right out ; 
while the women, arrayed in garments of red, 
green, and yellow, with high-heeled shoes on, 
looked as unconcerned as if they were going to 
a fair, instead of being pursued by the fierce 
Egyptians, with a fair prospect of being over- 
taken by them and driven back into captivity, 
or driven into the great sea before them and 
drowned. Moses in pink garments, and Aaron 
in blue, led them all to the verge of the waves, 
which suddenly, by some ingenious mechan- 


i 


SNOW ANGEL. 


133 


ism of the lantern, opened right and left, and 
the great multitude passed over to the other 
side dry-shod. Then appeared the hosts of 
Pharaoh in pursuit, horsemen, chariots, arch- 
ers, and foot-soldiers in battle .array. “ Here 
comes old Pharaoh ivith his smartness /” ex- 
claimed Ida Germaine, who was so deeply en- 
grossed by the scene that she forgot herself 
and where she was. There arose a great shout 
of laughter, for there was no sympathy felt for 
Pharaoh, and they all knew what he caught by 
his smartness. On marched the Egyptian 
hosts, with gleaming spears, ivory chariots, 
and arrows of burnished steel, their proud 
banners waving in the breeze ; down into the 
dry bed of the sea they trooped, when sudden- 
ly down swept the unchained billows, drowning 
them in a great flood ; while the Israelites, en- 
camped safely on the other side, sang praises 
to God for their deliverance, with the sound of 
harp and timbrel; and in the distance ap- 
peared the pillar of fire that was to guide them, 
“ a pillar of cloud by day and of fire by night.” 
Then all vanished amidst a storm of ap- 
12 


134 : 


SNOW ANGEL. 


plause — as the papers say — and a beautiful 
passion-flower stood out on the wall, which 
looked as if it had just been gathered from 
some Floridian vine, and tossed there. While 
all were gazing admiringly on it, it began to 
expand, and suddenly from its centre uprose 
the head and shoulders of a woman, who ap- 
peared to be in a violent passion ; her clenched 
fists, scowling eyes, and angry brow showing 
very plainly that “ somebody was hurt,” or 
soon would be. A burst of merriment saluted 
the virago, and the children declared they did 
not want such flowers as that to be growing 
around ; then, as if satisfied with the display she 
had made, or ashamed of herself, she plunged 
out of sight and the flower faded. Presto ! A 
fashionable lady appears without hoops, look- 
ing like a broomstick, and altogether disconso- 
late, when lo ! up flew her head, and out flew 
her skirts as large as life. Shouts of laughter 
and clapping of little hands saluted her, and 
gravely curtseying, she glided out of sight. 
When the merriment subsided, all eyes were 
once more fixed expectantly on the luminous 


SNOW ANGEL. 


135 


disk, which was suddenly shadowed over by a 
night-scene on the ocean ! The waves rolled 
high. Stars glittered here and there, and the 
moon was half hidden by rugged clouds. Afar 
off gleamed the light-house, “ like a star on the 
breast of the ocean.” Then appeared a ship 
at anchor, red lights shining from her port- 
holes and cabin windows, as she rose and fell 
with the billows. That was a sight to see, and 
a storm of applause arose loud and long 
enough to have sent the ship scudding off 
under bare poles to the northwest passage, if 
she had not been so fast anchored. After the 
first tableau — the Nativity — the Ship at Anchor 
was the favorite, even over “ Joseph and his 
Brethren ;” “ Moses in the Bulrushes “ the 
Good Samaritan,” and “Noah going into the 
Ark.” I should be glad to record a more proper 
appreciation on the part of the children of all 
the sacred representations they saw, and should 
have been exceedingly happy if they had only 
uttered a few moral sentiments ; but they were 
children as they are , and not as they ought to be, 
so they boldly announced before Mr. Yane 


136 


SNOW ANGEL. 


himself, that, after the “Nativity,” they liked 
the ship best of all ; and I very much fear that 
there were some little reprobates there, who, if 
they had been pushed to the wall, would not 
even have excepted the Nativity. 

At length the festival was over, and the min- 
ister was more than rewarded by the sweet as- 
surance that he had made many little hearts 
happy. Oh, it is no little thing, believe me, to 
make children happy — happy in the right way ; 
for, “ Inasmuch,” saitli the God-man, “ as ye do it 
to the least of these my little ones, ye do it unto 
Me.” “ Whosoever offends one of these little 
ones, it were better for him that a millstone 
were hung about his neck, and he were drowned 
in the depths of the sea.” 

* * * “ And Jesus called a little child to him 


and blessed him.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


137 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE MENAGERIE. — EVENING ENTERTAINMENTS. 

Effie was very tired by the time she got 
home from Mr. Vane’s festival, and looked so 
drooping that her mamma asked her if she felt 
sick. 

“ No, I am not sick, mamma. I only feel 
strangely in my head. Somehow, I seem to be 
floating,” answered Effie, as she put her arms 
about her mother, and laid her head upon her 
bosom. Her cheeks were brilliantly flushed, 
her eyes sparkled, but her fingers were cold 
and her breathing hurried. 

“ It is the day’s excitement, dear mamma — 
nothing else,” said Miss Varney, kneeling down 
beside Effie. “ Come, little woman, you are 
very tired I know, let us go up together to 
bed.” 


12 * 


138 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“After I look at Hal’s menagerie, sister Clare, 
I will. It is so curious ! They all look like 
real animals, and can shake their heads. I had 
not time to get a good look at them all to-day. 
I am rested now,” said the child, lifting up her 
face, now bright with its old earnest, mid ex- 
pression. 

“ I believe you were only a wee bit worn out 
with fatigue, after all,” said Miss Yarney, kiss- 
ing her, with a look of relief. 

“ I shall consult Dr. Dennis to-morrow about 
the child. She has some fever every night of 
her life,” observed Mrs. Yarney in an under- 
tone. 

“ I would do so, mamma, by all means,” she 
replied. 

“Here, here is my menagerie , Effie,” said 
amiable Hal Germaine, fetching the box which 
contained the menagerie from a table at the 
other end of the room ; “ take it up-stairs with 
you, then you can see it early in the morning.” 

“ That is very kind of you, Hal,” said 'Effie, 
with delight sparkling in her eyes ; “ I will take 
the best care of your animals.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


139 


“Hal is always doing something kind, or 
saying something pleasant,” said Mrs. Varney, 
laying her hand affectionately on the little fel- 
low’s flaxen head, while he blushed like a 
girl. 

I say “ like a girl,” because it is a common 
expression ; but I am sorry to declare my be- 
lief that it is not by any means a common oc- 
currence now-a-days for girls to blush. Their 
faces redden with anger sometimes, and grati- 
fied vanity, or wounded pride ; but as for a 
real, modest blush ! — well, it is a very beautiful 
thing, to say the least of it. 

Undressed, with a little dressing-gown thrown 
on over her nightgown, Effie felt better, and 
she sat down upon the rug before the fire to 
unpack the menagerie. In a few minutes, ele- 
phants, giraffes, lions, tigers, hyenas, and polar 
bears stood nodding their heads before her, 
their yellow eyes glistening in the firelight, their 
white fangs shining, and their red tongues 
glowing — handsome, fierce-looking, savage 
beasts, which seemed ready to devour one. 
She had read about them all in natural history, 


140 


SNOW ANGEL. 


and had once accompanied her brother to a 
real menagerie , where she had seen all the beasts 
living, and heard them roaring, and these were 
the exact miniatures of them. 

“ Oh, but you do look ferocious, Mr. Lion, 
with your mane ruffled up, your head thrown 
back, and your mouth wide open, crouched for 
a spring ! Oh, you are a sneak, you tiger, 
creeping along looking sideways, and licking 
your chops, with that wicked expression of ire 
in your face !” said Effie, as she looked steadily 
at the animals which she had grouped about 
her, until her head began to float again. Then 
she moved them, and arranged them all under- 
neath the centre-table, so that she might see 
them as soon as she got up the nexi morning. 
She had forgotten all about the “ governor’s ” 
promised visit to inspect the Christmas-tree, 
and made her preparations for rest, said her 
prayers, kissed her sister, jumped into bed, and 
had scarcely snugged herself down upon her 
pillow before she was asleep. But a little past 
midnight she suddenly awoke from a dream, in 
which she thought she was floating high up in 


SNOW ANGEL. 


141 


the air on the back of a white swan. “ I wish 
I could go sailing up in the air,” said the child. 

“ I would go straight to the Snow-King.” She 
raised herself up and looked towards the east- 
ern window. The curtains were drawn aside, 
and the moonlight streamed through. She 
could see the distant hills, and the tree-tops in 
the glen waving gently to and fro. An irre- 
sistible desire seized her to get up and run to 
the window to look out at the moon and stars, 
which she did ; but she felt so chilled, for it 
was bitterly cold, that she flew back to the fire 
and crouched on the rug, her knees drawn up 
to her chin, and her hands outspread before the 
grate. After getting thoroughly warmed, she 
looked up and saw her Christmas-tree flooded 
with moonlight, and thought how very beauti- 
ful it was. Then she began to think of “ the 
ship at anchor,” and imagined it must be very 
nice to be rocked up and down on the waves, 
and wondered if, when her mamma and all of 
them went to Italy, they would go in a ship like 
Mr. Vane’s. In the midst of her cogitations 
something cold touched her toe, and upon look- 


142 


SNOW ANGEL. 


ing down, after a slight start, who should she 
see but the “ governor !” 

“ How do you do, governor ? Excuse me 
for not having seen you before. I am so glad 
that you have come to see my Christmas tree !” 

“ I have been here some time, little lady, 
and have examined every part of that most 
magnificent tree. It is splendid ! It must 
have cost millions upon millions ! So much 
gold ! So many precious stones ! So many 
rare and costly things !” exclaimed the gov- 
ernor, with rapture. The sly old cove had 
not only been up the tree, but had helped him- 
self to tit-bits off the most costly bonbons 
upon it. For he was a public functionary, 
and knew how to make the most of his ad- 
vantages. 

“ I am glad that you admire my tree, gov- 
ernor. It is very beautiful, and it has made 
my Christmas very happy,” replied Effie, as 
she arose from the rug and went to the tree, 
from which she took down several silk bags 
of the tiniest dimensions, which were stuffed 
with delicious French seed confectionery, and 


SNOW ANGEL. 


143 


presented tliem to the governor. “ Here,” 
she continued, “ is something nice for your 
wife and children. I made those cunning lit- 
tle sacks myself, and everybody was dying with 
curiosity to know what, or whom, they were 
for. I never forget old friends, governor. Here, 
take them ; and when you go, you can just 
take the strings between your teeth and haul 
them along ; they are not heavy, you know.” 

“ Exactly. Nothing could be better con- 
trived. Accept my thanks, generous princess. 
I wish you many returns of this festive day ! 
Now, I must say adieu! I have not another 
moment to spare.. The Snow- Angel — ” 

“ The Snow- Angel !” exclaimed Effie, trem- 
bling with delight. 

“ The Snow- Angel has been here to-night — 
in this apartment — but alas ! gracious lady, 
you were sound asleep,” said the governor, 
with slow emphasis. 

“ Oh, dear ! oh, dear !” said the child, wring- 
ing her hands ; “ shall I never see her again ? 
Oh, governor, I am so sorry that I am such 
a sleepy-head. I would give every thing I 


144 


SNOW ANGEL. 


have in the world to see the Snow- Angel once 
more.” 

“ She left her love for yon,” continued the 
governor, “ and says that she will come again 
very soon, to take you to the court of her 
father, if you still wish to go ;” and then the 
sly old diplomatist coughed. 

“ I guess I do want to go !” said Effie, ear- 
nestly, as she dashed the tears from her eye- 
lashes. “ Tell Angel Flakana so, whenever 
you see her again. But see, governor, your 
bonbons are rolling over the floor. You will 
lose them all, I fear.” 

The governor whisked himself around, and 
began to chase the bonbons about as they 
rolled here and there ; when all at once he 
found himself confronted with the animals of 
the menagerie , who glared savagely in his face, 
appearing to threaten him with instant death. 
With a wild scream of alarm, he made but 
three flying leaps, and disappeared. Effie saw 
it all, and laughed until her sides ached ; then 
she went to bed again, but lay awake a long 
time, laughing to herself at the silly old “ gov- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


145 


ernor’s fright.” She awoke the next morning 
after a late nap, feeling refreshed, and was 
ready for a regular holiday of Christmas 
games and plays. Hal’s beasts did not look 
quite so ferocious by daylight, because one 
could see that their tongues were made of red 
cloth, and that their heads were hitched into 
their nocks with a sort of a spring, w T hich 
caused them to turn them from side to side- 
whenever they were moved or touched ; and 
their eyes, which glared so dreadfully by lamp- 
light, were only yellow paint, glazed with 
isinglass, but still they were wonderfully like 
the animals they represented, except in size ; 
and Effie packed them away carefully in the 
box where they belonged, laughing now and 
then to herself at the great scare they had 
given the “governor,” and at his undignified 
exit. 

There was a great deal, of visiting among 
the dolls that day; putting together of dis- 
sected maps ; playing keeping house, and 
making believe to cook in the kitchen ; making 
up the doll’s bed, arranging the new furni- 
13 


146 


SNOW ANGEL. 


ture, laugliing over the toy picture-books and 
reading beautiful stories. Then General Ger- 
maine told them about the battle of Fred- 
ericksburg ; but when he saw how it was sad- 
dening the youthful party, he opened the melo- 
deon and played and sang the “ Star-spangled 
Banner” in magnificent style ; and some comic 
songs which made them all uproarious with 
glee. Then they had a dance, sans ceremonie. 

After tea Mrs. Germaine proposed that the 
children should hand in the tales they had 
written, to be read aloud. They tried to beg 
off, and expostulated, and declared they were 
ashamed to have their silly little stories read 
out before Mr. Yane and the general ; but 
Mrs. Germaine and Mrs. Yarney were inexora- 
ble. So they ran up stairs and came back, 
each one, except Ida, with a folded and sealed 
paper in their hands, which they laid, with shy 
looks, and any amount of giggling, in Mrs. 
Germaine’s lap. She was to read their pro- 
ductions aloud. Maumy got a hint from Fan 
as to what was going on, and after a whispered 
consultation with Mrs. Yane, she and Fan 


SNOW ANGEL. 


147 


got permission to form part of the audience. 
When every thing became quite silent, Mrs. 
Germaine opened the envelopes, and, after 
glancing over their contents, began with 
Dody’s story, — Dody, who ran and hid be- 
hind the large chair, in which the general 
sat, and whose round face could be discerned 
now and then rising over the back of it, like 
a full red moon, then suddenly disappearing, 
as if under an eclipse. 

“ One morning,” narrated Dody, “ when we 

were down at Fort in Texas, w r e were 

eating breakfast, and all at once we heard 
such a strange sort of a noise, that everybody 
jumped up from the table, and ran out on the 
verandah, to see what was the matter ; and 
behold you, what should it be but old Pomp, 
our dog, with his head in a pitcher, running 
round and round, howling and whining. The 
foolish old fellow had gone and rammed his 
head down into the pitcher to get at some- 
thing to eat that he smelt at the bottom, and 
then he couldn’t get it out again ; and it was 
very funny to see him fastened up in that way, 


148 


SNOW ANGEL. 


making a worse noise than the Camanches.” 
There arose a great laugh at Dody’s story, 
which Hal had written down for him precisely 
as he had told it. The general and Mrs. Ger- 
v maine remembered the incident perfectly, and 
said that Pomp always looked ashamed after 
that whenever he saw a pitcher. Then Mrs. 
Germaine proceeded to read 

hal’s stoey. 

% 

Once, when we were at Fort Laramie, we 
boys got it into our heads that, some of those 
days, we might be soldiers ; so we though twe’d 
begin to get ready for it, and we fixed up a 
tent out of two old blankets that Corporal 
Gunn gave us, at a place away down amongst 
some trees that we called our camp. We had 
guns, and swords, and drums, trumpets and 
cartridge-boxes, caps and feathers, that we 
had got from Frank and Willie for Christmas 
gifts ; and one of the soldiers gave us some 
straw to sleep upon. After supper — we used 
to have supper very early down there — we 
stole off to our camp, to have dress-parade. I 


SNOW ANGEL. 


149 


forgot to tell you that we were six boys in all. 
The other boys were the sons of officers who 
lived in the garrison. After dress-parade we 
called the muster-roll, beat tattoo, and by and 
by beat taps, and all turned into bed and 
went to sleep, sure enough, for I tell you we 
were very tired with our hard day’s work. 
Mamma and papa did not know where we 
were, or any thing about it, and were very 
much frightened ; and papa sent the orderlies 
out to hunt us up, and some of the men went 
outside the garrison to see if we had strayed 
off. They thought the Indians, who were very 
unfriendly around that country, had caught 
us, and it was twelve o’clock that night before 
they found out where we were ; and I tell you 
we were scared when we waked up and saw 
papa and the soldiers standing all around us* 
with light- wood torches.” 

“ I was for letting them sleep it out, when I 
found they were safe,” said General Germaine, 
laughing heartily, “but I knew their mother 
was half distracted about them. I assure you 
the young rascals thought it very disgraceful to 
13 * 


150 


SNOW ANGEL. 


be hauled up out of camp in that unceremonious 
fashion, and put into bed with nightgowns on. 
As to Dody, he very indignantly asked me 
* how I’d like to be treated so ?’ I had to 
threaten to put the whole party under arrest, I 
assure you, before they could be made to re- 
member that I was commander-in-chief there.” 

Hal’s story was highly approved, and created 
no little mirth ; after which, Effie begged that 
Ida’s “ story ” might be read before hers. Ida 
looked confused, whispered to her mother, and 
then said aloud : “ I did not write a story. I 
wasn’t up to it. I began, and got all the peo- 
ple in a forest, and didn’t know how to get 
them out, or what to do with them. Then I 
burnt the whole concern up.” 

“ You little savage !” said the general, 
laughing. 

“ I am sure Ida has something for us,” ob- 
served Mr. Yane, kindly. 

“ I don’t know, Mr. Yane, how the rest will 
like it; but you know when I found that I 
couldn’t get my people out of the woods and 
.go on with the tale, I committed a piece of 


SNOW ANGEL. 


151 


Christmas poetry to memory, which I read in 
an old, old scrap-book of somebody’s that I 
found lying around, and, if agreeable to the 
company, sir, I will repeat it.” 

Every one thought Ida’s plan an excellent 
one. Indeed, she had displayed not only good 
feeling but good sense in acting as she had 
done, and they were all very anxious to hear 
her recite the poetry ; so, with the roses in her 
cheeks a little brighter than usual, she stood 
up beside her father, and began : 

BENNY. 

I had told him Christmas morning. 

As he sat upon my knee. 

Holding fast his little stockings 
Stuffed as full as full could be. 

And attentive, listening to me, 

With a face demure and mild. 

That old Santa Claus, who filled them. 

Did not love a naughty child. 


“ But we’ll be good, won’t we, moder V* 
And from off my lap he slid, 

Digging deep among the goodies 


152 


SNOW ANGEL. 


In his crimson stocking hid. 

While I turned me to my table 
Where a tempting goblet stood, 

Brimming high with tempting egg-nogg, 

Sent me by a neighbor good. 

But the kitten, there before me 
With his white paw, nothing loth. 

Sat, by way of entertainment, 

Slapping off the creamy froth ; 

And in not the gentlest humor 
At the loss of such a treat, 

I confess I rather rudely 
Thrust him out into the street. 

Then how Benny’s blue eye kindled 1 
Gathering up the precious store 
He had busily been pouring 
In his tiny pinafore ; 

With a generous look that shamed me, 

Sprang he from the carpet bright, 

Showing by his mien indignant 
All a baby’s sense of right. 

" Come back, Harney !” called he loudly, 

As he held his apron white — 

" You shall have my candy wabbit /” [Laughter.] 
But the door was fastened tight. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


153 


So lie stood abashed and silent. 

In the centre of the floor, 

With defeated looks, alternate 
Bent on me and on the door. 

Then, as by some sudden impulse. 

Quickly ran he to the fire. 

And while eagerly his bright eyes 
Watched the flame go higher and higher. 

In a brave, clear key he shouted, 

Like some lordly little elf, 

“ Santa Claus, come down de chimney, 

Make my moder ’have herself 1” [Loud laughter.] 

“ Come, I’ll be a good girl, Benny,” 

Said I, feeling the reproof ; 

And straightway I called poor Harney, 

Mewing on the gallery roof. 

Soon the anger was forgotten. 

Laughter chased away the frown, 

And they gambolled ’neath the live-oaks 
’Till the dusky night came down. 

[Applause and laughter.] 

In my dim fire-lighted chamber, 

Harney purred beneath my chair, 

And my play-worn boy beside me 
Knelt to say his evening prayer : 


154 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ God bless fader, God bless moder, 

God bless sister — ” Then a pause, 

And the sweet young lips devoutly 
Murmured : “ God bless Santa Claus.” 

[Murmurs of pleasure.] 

He is sleeping— brown and silken 
Lie the lashes, long and meek. 

Like caressing, changing shadows 
On his plump and rosy cheek. 

And I bend above him weeping 
Thankful tears, O Undefiled, 

For a woman’s crown of glory, 

For the blessing of a child. 

“ Beautiful, Ida !” “ Oh, how nice !” “ It 

is better than a story !” “ ‘ Make my moder 

’have herself,’ ha ! ha ! ha !” “ Yery good, 

little daughter !” “ Yery pretty, Ida, and well 

recited !” were the words that greeted Ida on 
every side. Maumy chuckled in her peculiar 
fashion, and said she thought “ that ’ar Benny 
was a peert one. He never had no trouble 
after dat with managin’ de missis, she 
knowed !” 

Peace being restored, and the children all 
seated quietly and expectant once more, Mrs. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


155 


Germaine opened the last envelope, and, after 
clearing her throat, began to read aloud Ef- 
fie’s original fairy story of — 

THE KING AND HIS GOLDEN CROWN. 

Once there was a king who was very proud 
of a golden crown which had been presented to 
him, and he was admiring himself in his glass 
room one day (I mean a . room composed of 
looking-glasses', when all on a sudden his 
golden crown fell off, and was shivered to 
atoms ; and while he was standing looking with 
mingled fear and astonishment at his destroyed 
crown (the reason his crown had been de- 
stroyed was because he had refused to marry a 
frightful, powerful, disagreeable, and spiteful 
old fairy, who had done this out of revenge), 
he heard a loud noise like a thousand thunder- 
clouds bursting at once, and in the midst of the 
uproar the wicked old fairy appeared. She 
was as thin as a lath in some places, and as fat 
as fat could be in others. Her arms were very 
fat, and her fingers were as thin as .splintere. 
The king was so astonished at seeing the fairy, 


156 


SNOW ANGEL. 


that he forgot all about his crown, and was 
feeling for his sword, which he had neglected 
to put on. The fairy approached him with 
open arms, and said : “ King, will you marry 
me now?” But the king answered, “No.” 
“You will not?” said the fairy. “Then I 
will show you what I can do.” And the next 
instant he found himself sailing through the 
air and as for where he was going he knew 
not. After a while he alighted beside a pool 
of water, as black as ink, called the Infernal 
Pool (on account of its color). On the banks 
of the Infernal Pool stood many beautiful 
maidens. They were people whom the fairy 
had enchanted because they would not marry 
her son, who was the image of his mother. 
After the king had been there a while, the fairy 
came, and after talking to them a while in the 
most insulting language, she touched them all 
with her wand, and turned them into stone. 
The fairy, after talking a while to the king, 
said : “ Choose of these two things — to stay im- 
prisoned here four years, or to marry me.” But 
the king stuck to what he had said first. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


157 


Every week the fairy came to see if the king 
had resolved to marry her, so that she could 
liberate him. But the king always answered 
NO. So that the fairy was at last tired of ask- 
ing him. But this frightful old fairy had a 
beautiful sister named Graceful. She was as 
beautiful as the day, and as good as she was 
handsome. . As it happened, this pretty and 
amiable fairy came to visit her sister, and she 
chanced to take a walk on the banks of the 
Infernal Pool, where she saw all the beautiful 
prisoners ; and she was very much pleased with 
them all, but with the king especially, and she 
touched them all with her wand, and released 
them from their unhappy condition, for she 
was more powerful than her evil, ugly sister. 
Then she asked the king to marry her, and they 
were married with great pomp, and lived to a 
happy old age, and they were beloved by all 
their people when they were living, and la- 
mented by all when they were dead.* 


* Copied verbatim from Effie’s manuscript. She was 
just ten years old at the time. 

14 


158 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“I tell you what, Miss Clara,” burst out 
Maumy, quite beside herself with delight, “ that 
’ar is wonderful ! Why, Lord bless de children ! 
where on de face of de yurth did dey git ther 
sense? Hiyi! Lord bless my soul, just look 
at ’em now ! I couldn’t do it, if it was to save 
my life, make up stories out of my head like 
dat! Hiyi!” 

“ Why, Effie/’ said the general, “ your king 
was a brave, splendid fellow to stand out for 
his own at such a rate. We must publish that 
fairy tale. It is really very good.” The 
children were all delighted with the story, and 
crowded around Effie to ask a thousand ques- 
tions concerning the bad fairy, the Infernal 
Pool, and the wedding. Mr. Yane called 
Effie “little poet,” and Sach one had something 
agreeable and encouraging to say to her about 
her production, which she received with un- 
affected modesty and pleasure. Now, Mr. Yane 
had some days before, by way of encourag- 
ing them in their enterprise, promised, or rather 
insinuated, that if they would “ try their best” 
he might possibly furnish something towards 


SNOW ANGEL. 


159 


the evening entertainment. They began to 
clamor for Mr. Vane’s story. They hung about 
his knees ; Effie and Ida leaned on each shoulder, 
and the grown-up ones of the party supported 
the rights of the children. 

“ But I have no story. I can write sermons, 
but not tales,” said Mr. Vane, laughing. 

“ But you promised, you did so, Mr. Vane 1” 
urged the inexorable children.. 

“ I did not promise a story, children. I said, 
something.” 

“ Well, let us hear it !” they clamored. 

“It is poetry,” pleaded Mr. Vane. 

“ Good ! good ! let us have the poetry I” 
shouted the children, clapping their hands and 
dancing around him. 

“General, can’t you help me to call these 
little outlaws to order ?” 

“They are only contending for their rights, 
sir,” replied General Germaine, laughing. “I’m 
afraid you will have to compromise matters 
with them.” 

“ Very well ; I begin to believe in such things 
as military necessity. Sit down, you little 


160 


SNOW ANGEL. 


tyrants!” said Mr. Yane, joining in the laugh. 
“ Sit down and be quiet, and I will read to you 
a Christmas Legend, written by an Italian 
poetess several hundred years ago. I found 
it among a curious collection of old Italian 
poetry, and will read the translation of the 
legend, which is considered the best, by the 
celebrated Father Prout, who was famous for 
the truthfulness and spirit of his translations.” 
Not a whisper or rustle could now be heard. 
The ladies put aside their knitting, and the 
general fixed himself in an attitude of attention. 
The children’s faces were lit up with the ex- 
pectation of something pleasant, and also satis- 
faction at having gained their point. Mr. Yane 
took from his coat-pocket an old and worm- 
eaten book, whose ancient and 'well-worn covers 
inspired every one with respect, which he 
opened, and began to read, in his peculiarly 
clear and well-modulated voice, the Legend of 
La Zingarella ; or, 

THE GIPSEY. 

“ There’s a legend that’s told of a Gipsy who dwelt 
In the land where the Pyramids be ; 


SNOW ANGEL. 


161 


And her robe was embroidered with stars, and her belt 
With devices right wondrous to see. 

And she lived in the days when our Lord was a child 
On his mother’s immaculate breast ; 

When he fled from his foes — when to Egypt exiled. 

He went down with St. Joseph the blest, 
v 

" This Egyptian held converse with magic, methinks. 

And the future was given to her gaze; 

For an obelisk marked her abode, and a sphinx 
On her threshold kept vigil always. 

She was pensive, and ever alone, nor was seen 
In the haunts of the dissolute crowd ; 

But communed with the ghosts of the Pharaohs, I ween. 
Or with visitors wrapped in a shroud. 

“ And there came an old man from the desert one day. 
With a maid on a mule, by that road ; 

And a child on her bosom reclined — and the way 
Led them straight to the Gipsy’s abode ; 

And they seemed to have travelled a wearisome path 
From their home, many, many a league — 

From a tyrant’s pursuit, from an enemy’s wrath — 

Spent with toil and o’ercome with fatigue. 

** And the Gipsy came forth from her dwelling, and prayed 
That the pilgrims should rest them awhile ; 

And she offered her couch to that delicate maid 
Who had come many, many a mile ; 

14 * 


162 


SNOW ANGEL. 


And she fondled the babe with affection’s caress-, 
And she begged the old man would repose : 

‘ Here the stranger,’ she said, ‘ ever finds free access, 
And the wanderer a balm for his woes/ 


“ When her guests from the glare of the noonday she led 
To a seat in her grotto so cool, 

Where she spread them a banquet of fruits — and a shed 
With a manger was found for the mule ; 

With the wine of the palm-tree, with dates newly culled. 
All the toil of the road she beguiled ; 

And with songs in a language mysterious she lulled, 

On her bosom, the wayfaring child. 


“ When the Gipsy anon in her Ethiop hand 
Placed the Infant’s diminutive palm, 

% 

Oh, ’twas fearful to see how the features she scanned 
Of the babe, in his slumbers so calm 1 
Well she noted each mark, and each furrow that crossed 
O’er the tracings of Destiny’s line ; 

‘Whence came ye?’ she cried, in astonishment lost, 

* For this child is of lineage divine 1’ 

" * From the village of Nazareth,’ Joseph replied, 

‘ Where we dwelt in the land of the Jew ; 

We have fled from a tyrant whose garment is dyed 
In the blood of the children he slew. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


163 


We are told to remain ’till an angel’s command 
Should appoint us the hour to return ; 

But ’till then we inhabit the foreigner’s land, 

And in Egypt we make our sojourn.’ 

“ * Then ye tarry with me,’ cried the Gipsy in joy, • 

‘ And ye make of my dwelling your home ; 

Many years have I prayed that the Israelite boy 
(Blessed hope of the Gentiles !) would come !’ 

And she kissed both the feet of the infant, and knelt. 

And adored Him at once : then a smile 

Lit the face of the mother, who cheerfully dwelt 

With her host on the banks of the Nile.” 

“ That was the Blessed Virgin and our 
Saviour — wasn’t it, Mr. Vane?” asked Hal. 

“ Yes, my boy ; you see that our Saviour was 
in sorrows from his infancy up to the crown- 
ing grief of the cross — and all for us, little ones, 
all for us.’.’ The comments on the legend were 
various, all thought it exquisitely touching, and 
the children, as usual, were disposed to ask in- 
numerable questions ; but the clock struck 
eleven! the little prayer-bell sounded — the 
Great Book was opened, and evening devotions 
began. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


161 


CHAPTER VII. 

effie’s flight with the snow-angel. 

Effee thought, perhaps, that Flakana would 
come for her that very night, and she lingered 
around her mamma, clinging to her bosom, and 
caressing her long pale hands, or kissing her 
faded cheeks long after bedtime, and finally — 
after they had retired to rest — she fell asleep 
with her head nestled on he? breast. Far in 
the night, when the full moon was flooding the 
earth with light, and making the sky look more 
serene, Effie was awakened by something soft 
and cold touching her forehead. She opened 
her eyes and saw, standing by her side, radiant 
with moonlight, the Snow- Angel, Flakana. 
The Snow-Angel bowed her lovely white 
face over Effie* and whispered : “ Come, Effie, 
I am going to visit my father, the Snow-King, 
to lay before him the distresses of those whose 


SNOW ANGEL. 


165 


needs man cannot assist. If you will come and 
help me plead for them, you can bear witness 
to all I relate. Should you like to go ?” 

“ Oh, yes, dear Flakana. But how can / go? 
I cannot fly, like a swallow !” replied Effie, laugh- 
ing at the idea. 

“ 1 have wings, broad, fleecy wings, child, 
which will bear us swiftly along — aye, as swiftly 
as the swallows fly. Arise and put your arm 
about me, while I support you with one of 
mine — aye, that is right. Kiss your dear mother, 
kiss her very gently. Now — so — let us begone. 
Do not be alarmed. No harm shall befall 
you,” said Flakana, in a low sweet tone. 

In another moment Effie found herself, sup- 
ported by the Snow-Angel’s arm, floating far, 
far up in the moonlit heavens. Her breath 
grew short, and her heart fluttered, as she 
looked down on the silent earth, which lay 
cold and dim in the distance ; but a feeling of 
perfect confidence in Flakana’s ability to pro- 
tect her from harm, prevented her from feeling 
afraid. 

“Little earth-sister,” said Flakana, after a 


166 


SNOW ANGEL. 


long and peaceful silence, “ I have to go in 
this direction, on a mission to the Fire-fly 
Yestals — ” 

“ Whither, Flakana ?” 

“ Just before us,”- said the Snow- Angel, ex- 
tending her beauteous arm, “there shines a 
splendid constellation. Dost know it, child ?” 

“ I have known it ever since I was born, 
Flakana,” cried Effie, clapping her hands. “ That 
is the ‘ Southern Cross,’ the beautiful Southern 
Cross. Are we flying southward, angel?” 

“Yes, flying southward, to do my father’s 
bidding,” she answered sadly. 

“ Who are the Fire-fly Yestals, Flakana?” 

“ They are subjects of my father, w r ho live in 
these southern lands. They have rebelled 
against the laws established by him ; they 
have neglected and overturned their altar, and 
become perfect furies ; they stir up thi| wasps 
and dragon-flies to revolt and insurrection, and 
give them no rest until they go out to fight in 
the wars they have helped raise. My father 
will deprive them of their lamps, and send 
them into exile, unless they return to their duty.” 

*8 


SNOW ANGEL. 


167 


“I shall never like fire-flies again,” said Effie. 
“ I did not know they were so wicked ; and the 
Snow-King will serve them right to take their 
lamps from them.” 

“ Ah, little earth-sister, all creatures have 
their cruel ways. But do not think of it. 
Best your head under my wing, and try to 
sleep.” 

“ I will after you tell me one thing, Flakana. 
Did you see the ‘ governor,’ before we came 
away ?” 

“ Oh, yes. I had a long conference with him 
and his council. They are all wild with joy at 
the prospect of relief, and sent their grateful 
thanks to you,” replied Flakana, with a sweet 
smile. 

“ He’s a funny old fellow, the governor, and 
gets into such panics,” said Effie, laughing as 
she thought of his last scamper from her mam- 
ma’s room. 

“ Better rest now, little earth-sister,” said 
Flakana, folding her wing lovingly over the 
child. “ Try and get to sleep.” 

Sleep indeed ! Effie did not feel in the least 


168 


SNOW ANGEL. 


sleepy, and if she had been ever so much in- 
clined to sleep, the strange and wonderful 
sights she saw would have kept her wide 
awake. Great glowing stars, crimson, purple, 
green, yellow, blue, and white, were revolving 
and careering around them. Round and round 
they went, flashing and glittering with a bril- 
liance which her eyes could scarcely endure ; 
sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes in 
fantastic figures, sometimes with a solemn 
tremulous rhythm, sometimes in whirling 
flights, for all the world like a Spanish dance ; 
and the moon high up above them all, like a 
queen in robes of silver and pearls. But by 
and by they began to fade. Like tired belles at 
a fancy ball, all disappeared one by one, all 
except the moon, who pulled a veil over her 
head, and a single bright star in the east, which 
lingered there like the sentinel of night, Effie 
loved this star, because it stood so bravely and 
constant at its post ; but she could not help 
seeing, as she watched it, that it became tremu- 
lous and pale. Suddenly she saw far down be- 
low it a gleam along the sky, then a blush of 


SNOW ANGEL. 


169 


red, then cloudy banners of purple and gold 
were outspread, then a fountain of golden light 
shot up from seas of brightness, and tossed a 
glittering spray far and near, gemming the 
cloudy banners with sapphire and ruby, and 
fringing them with gold, until the whole east 
was a-flame with their glory. Still broadened 
and widened the sea of light, the hills and 
rivers were gilded with effulgence, and the star 
that had kept vigil like a true knight at the 
portals of morning, entered within the crystal 
bars, and was lost to view. Up now darted 
bearded arrows of gold — up sprang countless 
spears of light,, as if an array of archangels 
were on the advance ; then the great splendid 
sun raised his diamond-crowned brow above 
the hills. Effie clapped her hands with joy at 
the sight — her little heart bounded with ecstasy 
at the view of such splendors, and she won- 
dered if heaven could be fairer! In the ful- 
ness of her heart she sang with joy, and the 
sweet shrill notes of her impromptu hymn 
went floating out, and mingled with the clarion 
lays of the mocking-birds and swallows which 
15 


170 


SNOW ANGEL 


arose in wild melodies from the groves below. 
But Flakana smiled sadly. She knew what 
tribulation there was on earth. 

Over camps where thousands of bayonets 
glistened in the morning light, and where the 
shrill notes of bugle and fife were heard sum- 
moning the armies for action ; over thronged 
cities, all astir with rumors of battles and car- 
nage ; over inland seas, where the great fleets 
which threatened destruction to citadels and 
towns rode at anchor ; over frowning moun- 
tains and silent plains, they sped along in the 
bright sunshine. 

“ I do not like this clime,” at last said Fla- 
kana, whose heart was rapidly palpitating. 
“ I never come hither unless ordered by my 
father.” 

“ I like it. It is so pleasant and bright,” said 
the child. 

“ There is always a pestilence here,” said 
Flakana, sadly. 

“A pestilence! But look, Flakana, is not 
that a woman on the lonely moor beneath us, 
wringing her hands and beating her breast ?” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


171 


said Effie, in a trembling and excited voice, as 
she leaned forward and gazed curiously down. 

“ It is,” replied the Snow- Angel, descending 
rapidly earthward. “ She is a brown woman, 
and looks like a wild beast of the desert who 
has been robbed of her whelps. If you are not 
afraid, little earth-sister, ask her the cause of 
her trouble.”* 

“ Poor woman,” said the child very gently, 
as she advanced towards her from behind a 
clump of young hemlocks, “ why do you 
weep ?” 

The brown woman turned her blood-shot 
eyes fiercely on the child, and made a gesture 
towards her as if she would strike her down. 

“ I could kill her,” she muttered to herself 
between her parched lips — “ I could kill her, 
but for the pity that is in her eye.” 

“ I am very sorry for you,” said the child. 
“ Has any one hurt you ?” 

“ Hurt me ! Hurt me !” she exclaimed 
wildly. “ Look here, child !” She tore open 


* The story of the brown woman is true. 


172 


SNOW ANGEL. 


her dress and exhibited her swollen breasts, in 
which the veins looked like knotted cords, w r hile 
two fountains of milk flowed from each nipple 
in lavish abundance over her garments, and on 
the dusty moor. 

“ They ache /” she screamed, beating her 
bosom with her fists. “ They ache for my 
baby — my baby, who now cries and moans for 
what the senseless earth drinks in. Little 
maiden, you who shed tears for me, I am a 
passionate wretch — the hot blood of Africa is 
in my veins. Three days ago my daughter, 
just grown, was whipped at the whipping-post 
on our plantation — tied and stripped she was, 
and lashed by a strong man, the overseer. I 
knelt to my mistress, who was nursed at my 
mother’s breast with me. I begged her to 
spare my child ; but she turned coldly away 
from me, and said : “ The girl’s temper must 
not be left to run riot, like mine.” The blood 
flew to my head. I don’t know what I did or 
said. I may have struck her, for I was mad ! 
mad ! yes, raving, crazy mad ! But whatever 
it was, it was unpardonable. I was sold off the 


SNOW ANGEL. 


173 


very next day — sold off from my baby and lit- 
tle ones. Who will tend them ? Who will 
nurse them ? W T ho will give suck to my starv- 
ing baby ?” And the brown woman threw her- 
self upon the earth in her agony. Frightened 
and horror-stricken, the child flew to the Snow- 
Angel, and, clasping her arms about her, beg- 
ged her to do something for the wretched 
mother. 

“ Alas ! I can do nothing, little earth-sister. 
She has the pestilence”* 

“ And must she die ?” wailed Effie. 

“ It does not always kill,” replied Flakana, 
mournfully, as she rose swiftly in the air. 

It was near evening when they reached the 
country of the Fire-fly Yestals. The pine forests 
were filled with multitudes of them, and such a 
buzzing, trumpeting, and chattering surely 
never was heard. Their lamps were seen in 
every direction fluttering up and down, in and 
out, stirring up the dragon-flies and wasps, 
until they were nearly blind with fury. “ Go,” 


* Flakana meant Slavery. 
15 * 


174 


SNOW ANGEL. 


they screamed shrilly through their trumpets ; 
“ go and fight for our rights ! If you don’t go 
to battle with the enemy, we’ll no longer notice 
you. We’ll have no coward sweethearts, hus- 
bands, or brothers. Arm ! arm ! arm ! If you 
are killed, it will be for us, and what greater 
honor can you desire ? Sharpen your stings ! 
To arms ! March !” 

“ Whom do they want to fight ?” asked Effie, 
clinging close under Elakana’s wing. 

“ All the other insects, who are true to the 
old, safe order of things. They are in revolt 
against all that has hitherto made them happy 
and prosperous. They are all touched by the 
pestilence , and it has made them mad. But stay 
here, little earth-sister, while I go and deliver 
my message.” While Elakana was absent, Ef- 
fie reclined on the soft pine-blades, which cov- 
ered the earth to a great depth, and which were 
brown and odorous. Presently she began to 
push them aside, which was easy work, for they 
were like dried hay, and she came to the soil, 
over which a rich green moss was growing. 
Delighted at her discovery, she opened another 


SNOW ANGEL. 


175 


place, and there she found violets and blue- 
peeps, which she gathered and made into a 
bouquet for Flakana. Examining further, she 
found underneath the smooth slippery pine- 
blades mosses of every shade and hue, and tiny 
white blossoms, fragrant, and tinted with pe- 
rite. The pine-blades kept every thing warm 
and comfortable there — every thing except a 
poor frog, stiff and cold, sprawled out on his 
back, his head thrown backwards, his eyes close 
shut, and his poor little gray hand outspread 
on his white waistcoat, right over his heart. 

“ What a pitiful sight !” murmured Effie. 
“ He is dead, poor little thing, and I am sure 
those Fire-fly Vestals have stung him to death : 
so I’ll bury him.” And she set to work and 
scooped out a grave in the soft soil, lined it 
with pine-blades, laid him decently in it, and 
covered him lightly over with layers of moss 
and earth. 

“ Caw ! caw ! caw ! caw !” shouted an old 
crow, as if in derision, from a bough over her 
head. “ He is not dead !” 

“ Sir!” exclaimed Effie, looking up affrighted. 


176 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ I say that he is not dead. He’s only asleep. 
He’s a youngster I was warning all the fall. — 
a thoughtless young dandy, who never looked 
the length of his nose ahead, and thought all 
old people fools. All the rest of his family 
went into winter-quarters in time, but the Frost- 
King came when he was not expected one 
night, and enchanted him, so there he has been 
lying sprawled out on his back ever since, and 
my wonder is, that he has not been gobbled up 
long ago by the wild pigs.” 

“ Oh, dear me ! What shall I do ?” said Effie, 
in great confusion. 

“ Caw ! caw ! caw !” laughed the crow. “ No- 
thing more. He’s very safe and comfortable 
there, if you haven’t squeezed him in too 
tight.” 

“ Oh, no ! he’s not squeezed at all, Mr. Crow. 
There’s very little earth and moss over him,” 
she replied. 

“ You are a kind-hearted little maiden,” said 
the crow, approvingly. “ Who brought you 
here ?” 


“ Flakana, the Snow- Angel.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


m 


“ The Snow- Angel ! Bless my soul and body ! 
I must dress,” he cried, beginning to trim up 
his feathers. “ I must go over and stir up the 
sagas of our tribe with the news, and give her 
a reception. You are a very kind little maiden, 
and some of these days I may do something 
for you.” So saying, off fluttered the crow, 
and soon afterwards Flakana returned, looking 
very sad, with the fleecy plumage of her wings 
all ruffled. 

“ Come, little earth-sister,” said the Snow- 
Angel, “ we must away from here. I was scoff- 
ed at and insulted by the Fire-Fly Yestals ; 
and the wasps and dragon-flies threatened me 
with imprisonment and death if I did not im- 
mediately depart. Added to the pestilence, 
they have all been stung by a powerful Battle- 
Snake, who has made himself king of the 
country.” 

“ What have they done to their Queen- 
Mother ?” asked Effie. 

“ Put her to death !” sobbed Flakana, while 
she dashed the crystal tears from her white 
cheeks. 


178 


SNOW ANGEL. 


For a long while neither of them spoke, as 
they floated, floated, floated up into the purple, 
silent air. Flakana was so sad and silent that 
the child did not like to ask her what meant 
the thousands and thousands of misty shapes 
that were constantly floating past them. Shapes 
of mist, whose dim outlines resembled human 
forms. Effie felt awed, and concealing her face 
under the Snow-Angel’s wing, she fell asleep. 
It was late in the afternoon when she awoke, 
with a great start ; frightened out of her sleep 
by strange, booming, thunderous sounds, which 
made such tempestuous billows in the air-tides 
that Flakana found it extremely difficult to 
pursue her course. 

“ What is that dreadful noise ?” asked the 
child, clinging to Flakana, as they struggled 
along. 

“ Those are the sounds of a battle,” replied 
the Snow- Angel, sadly. “ We shall have to 
pass near it.” 

“ Oh, don’t, don’t, dear, darling Flakana. I 
should never sleep again if I saw a battle. Oh, 
dear me ! to think of all the dead, white faces 


SNOW ANGEL. 


179 


turned up, and the poor wounded soldiers, 
crying and moaning, and the white-haired old 
men, like my grandpa, among them. Oh, don’t, 
dear, sweet angel, carry me there !” plead Effie. 

“ Nothing shall harm thee, Effie. I cannot 
change my course, but I will fold one of my 
wings over thy eyes as we pass, and put a drop 
of crystal oil in thy ears, so that these terrific 
sounds can no longer terrify thee,” said Flakana, 
as they approached the direction. of the battle- 
field, above which hung dark, sulphurous 
clouds of smoke, through which lurid tongues 
of flame darted to and fro with terrific ex- 
plosions. The Snow- Angel paused an instant 
to anoint Effie’s ears with some oil of crystal, 
then folded her wing over her face and sailed 
on. Then the child no longer heard the crash- 
ing explosion of shells and cannon, and the 
fierce rattle of musketry ; and she nestled her 
face close to Flakana’s bosom, under the beau- 
tiful, white, feathery wing that drooped softly 
over her. 


180 


SNOW ANGEL. 



CHAPTER YIH. 

WHAT THE SNOW- ANGEL AND EFFIE SAW. 

All at once the Angel paused in her flight, 
and every thing was so silent and motionless, 
that Effie felt frightened, and peeped out. She 
saw the dark battle-cloud lowering in the dis- 
tance ; she saw the sun-rays slanting down, 
bright and golden, through the pines and hem- 
locks on the hills ; she saw a broad plain, 
skirted by a dense wood, which already looked 
purple in the gathering shadows ; and, afar off, 
she saw a broad, deep river, flashing in the 
tinted light. Suddenly she saw a young officer, 
mounted on a splendid charger, dashing across 
the plain at full gallop. She knew, by the blue 
and gold of his uniform, that he was one of 
those brave and knightly spirits who had 
offered service and life to his country, to aid in 
preserving its liberties, and she leaned eagerly 


SNOW ANGEL. 


181 


forward to watch his progress. Her heart 
bounded wildly as she saw him come speeding 
along over the plain, and as he drew near she 
saw his face, that it was noble and beautiful ; 
then, folding her hands together, she prayed 
that no harm might come to him. But even 
while she prayed she saw two bright flashes 
from the dusky woods, followed bj r sharp explo- 
sions ; the horse sprang backwards, snorting, 
rearing, and wildty plunging ; and the young 
soldjer, with an outcry of pain, fell from his 
saddle, extended on the sandy plain. A cold 
tremor crept through the child’s veins ; she felt 
faint and sick, and oh, so sorrowful ! Flakana’s 
heart fluttered against her own, and, upon look- 
ing up, she saw that tears were flowing over 
her white cheeks. A sudden, swift movement, 
and they were beside the fallen soldier. Others 
: were also there. Two rough, murderous-look- 
ing men, with black tangled hair and beard, 
hollow cheeks, fierce, black, sunken eyes, and 
ferocious countenances, whose clothes of filthy 
i gray hung about their gaunt limbs in tatters, 
were stooping over him. Their rifles lay on the 


182 


SNOW ANGEL. 


sands close by. Flakana touched the child’s 
ears with a rose-tinted oil from a tiny crystal 
flask which she drew from her bosom, and then 
she heard all that was passing in the sad scene 
before them. 

“What need of this ?” feebly asked the 
wounded soldier. “ This is not war, it is murder.” 

“ You are the foe of the South ! one of her 
invaders !” brusquely replied the elder of the 
two men, pointing to the eagles on the buttons 
of his uniform. 

“ I am, thank God ! I am a foe to all who 
are foes to my country. I give her my poor 
life freely. Only I should have preferred death 
on the field, in fair and honorable warfare. Old 
man ! blood spilt like mine calls to heaven like 
Abel’s. This is martyrdom !” 

“ Never mind talking now,” said the guerrilla 
chief, somewhat softly ; “ you're not the first. I 
and he there have brung down many like you 
in the same way. But, stranger, you are the 
first one of them all that’s made me sorry for 
my work. Forgive me.” 

“Be sorry for your treason,” faintly re- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


183 


sponded the young soldier. After a short 
silence : “ As to my myself, I forgive you. 
Christ forgave His murderers ; I dare not re- 
fuse forgiveness to mine.” And his breath 
grew fainter, and a gray tint began to settle 
around his lips. 

“ Can I serve you ?” asked the guerrilla chief, 
shading his eyes with his hand. 

“Yes,” replied the dying soldier, in faint, 
trembling tones. “ In my breast-pocket there 
is a pocket-book. Get it out for me.” The 
man did so, as tenderly as his rough hands 
knew how. “ Open it, and give me the pencil 
you will find in it, and a letter — it is in the 
pocket. Thanks. Now I will—.” The white 
lips quivered, and the soft, brown eyes grew 
dimmer, as, holding the pencil in his feeble 
fingers, he blindly wrote : “ I am dying. God 
bless you !” All the while his life-blood was 
pouring away its crimson tide into the thirsty 
sands of the plain. 

“ Take this,” he said feebly, “ and give it to 
some exchanged prisoner who is going home. 
The address is inside the letter. For your 


184 


SNOW ANGEL. 


services take my purse ; and, as a last favor, 
write my name and rank — the letter will tell 
you all — on a rough board, and plant it at my 
head, so that my comrades, when they pass by 
this way, may know where I rest. But say ” — 
as some painful thought wrung his heart — <£ will 
you provide me a grave 2” 

“We will,” replied the guerrilla in husky 
tones. A look of relief passed over the pallid 
face of the dying soldier. His lips moved and 
quivered, but no sound escaped them ; the in- 
describable pallor of death, whitened cheek, 
brow, and lips, and the beautiful eyes were 
eclipsed. He was dead. 

“ Look !” whispered Flakana. 

And the child, looking up through her tears, 
saw amidst the golden rays of the setting sun, 
that streamed down in luminous bars through 
the dark pines and hemlocks, a woman’s shape 
outlined, shadowy and tender : it brooded over 
the dead soldier ; the golden brown hair and 
lustrous eyes wavering and shining through the 
sunlit mist, and her arms extended towards 
him with a welcoming gesture ! 


SNOW ANGEL. 


185 


“ It is the spirit of his mother, who died in 
his boyhood !” whispered Elakana. 

“ Oh, Flakana ! can you do nothing to recall 
one so brave and good to life?” sobbed the child. 

“Nothing!” sighed the angel. “There is 
but one Lord of Life, and He is God. He is 
merciful as well as just, and His designs are 
always good, even when they are the most in- 
scrutable. Let us adore Him ;” and Elakana 
bowed her forehead to the earth in silent ado- 
ration of the Supreme Being who governs all 
things ; after which she resumed her flight. 
Effie wept silently. Her heart was heavy with 
the sadness of what she had seen, and the 
thought of those at home who would receive 
that last message : “lam dying. God bless you.” 

“ I knew him in his fair home by the Hud- 
son,” said Elakana gently, as if divining her 
thoughts. “ Oh, child ! it was always brighter 
there when he came. Joy sat at the board 
with him. The poor blessed his pleasant, com- 
passionate face, and the sorrowful of heart 
loved the sound of his footsteps. He had a 
liberal hand, and a gentle and kindly word for 
16 * 


186 


SNOW ANGEL. 


all. A father, a sister, and * brother clung to 
him with strange tenderness and pride. All 
that wealth could command was at his dis- 
posal. His aspirations were noble ; his aims 
high. Suddenly the peace that reigned over 
your land was rudely broken. The tainted 
slave-power of the South revolted against the 
government for its overthrow. Then arose a 
great cry of execration throughout the loyal 
countries — there was an uprising of millions — 
his heart was a-flame with the rest, at the great 
wrong ; and he went down with countless hosts 
to avenge on the southern plains the cause bf his 
insulted country, and contend with her foes for 
the preservation of its Liberties. He has done 
all that mortal could do ; he has fought bravely 
for the Nation’s Life ; he has perished in its 
defence, without a selfish regret. Peace rest 
with him.” 

“ Peace — peace — peace,” came voices sweetly 
whispering past them, and Effie thought she 
saw two shadowy forms glide by.* 

* In memory of a friend and brother who perished as de- 
scribed. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


187 


The Snow- Angel floated silently on. It was 
twilight. The new moon shone like a silver 
boat in the sky. A great bright star glittered 
beside her. All was peaceful there, and the 
depths of the silent heaven, with its millions 
of palpitating lights, looked solemn and holy. 
But still came the heavy booming of cannon 
from the troubled earth. The tide of battle 
had swept eastwardly, leaving in its track 
thousands of dying and dead. In a ravine, be- 
side a rivulet, lay a fair-haired boy; his head 
rested on his arm ; a sweet smile' parted his 
lips and broke into dimples on his cheeks. 
The gold eagles on the buttons of his blue 
jacket flashed in the moonlight. One hand 
lay beside him, a pistol just dropping from the 
relaxed hold of his slender fingers. 

“Oli, Flakana! how beautiful!” exclaimed 
the child, clasping her hands. “ He must be 
very weary to sleep so soundly while the bat- 
tle is raging. Let us kiss his forehead. It 
will not awake him.” 

“Ver j weary no doubt,” said the angel, 
pityingly. “ He is perhaps dreaming of home. 


188 


SNOW ANGEL. 


Do not go near ‘him, little earth-sister. It 
might awake him. But I will sing to him as 
he sleeps — sing of those whose prayers follow 
him in his far-off home, and my song will make 
his dream brighter. And the Snow-Angel 
sang — ■ 

flakana’s song. 

Soldier 1 why art thou sleeping ? 

Rough is thy pillow in this dark ravine, 

Uptorn the earth, blood-stained the sodden green ; 
Wild-flowers hang drooping in the broken light. 
Shedding their leaves with an untimely blight. 

Which crimson dews are steeping ! 

Of what can be thy dreaming ? 

Dost hear the whisper, through the shadows dim, 

That cometh to thee of home’s vesper hymn? 

Dost hear the rustle of the vines at play, 

And tones of loved ones, as for thee they pray 
Amidst their tears fast streaming? 

Smiles on thy lips yet linger, 

As if low tender words stole through thy dream, 

As if upon thee some dear eye did beam ! 

As if glad tears were hidden on thy breast. 

As if a fond hand in thine own did rest, 

With clasp of loving finger. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


189 


The moon had risen higher, and shone more 
broadly on the boy’s face while the angel 
sweetly sang. It was very white in its silent 
beauty. He was dead. 

“We will kiss him now,” said Flakana softly. 
“ Kiss him for those who were in his thoughts 
when he fell.” Effie parted the golden cluster- 
ing curls from his forehead, and stooping over, 
kissed it, as she would have done a brother’s. 
It was icy cold, and in one temple there was a 
deep wound from which the blood had ceased 
flowing. He must have been dead for hours. 
Then sadly and silently they once more soared 
up into the dusky air, leaving the wild tempest 
of war far behind them 

It was midnight. They were floating over a 
primeval forest. There were generations of 
dead hemlocks pointing their bare white tops 
to the moon. Other generations, flush with 
life and luxuriant in leaf, quivered, rustled, and 
whispered in the midnight air. The sycamores, 
the oak, and the white pines, not to be outdone 
by the princes of the wild-wood, who were so 
lofty and proud that all envied them, tossed 


190 


SNOW ANGEL. 


tlieir arms, and clapped their hands, and flut- 
tered their plumes, shouting aloud ; while a 
white owl, vexed at an uproar that sorely dis- 
turbed his plans, as he watched for his prey, 
screamed “ Tu-whit, tu-whoo !” and the lazy 
crows ruffled their black wings, and cried in a 
fury, “ Caw ! caw ! caw !” 

“ Oh, dear ! how very wild and solemn is this 
forest ! I am sure there are goblins in it, Fla- 
kana I” whispered Effie, clinging close under the 
wings of the Snow-Angel. 

“Yes, dreadful goblins, little earth-sister,” 
responded Flakana ; “ but do not feel afraid. 
They cannot harm us. The only thing I fear 
is the Eain Spirit. Next to the Fire Spirit he 
is the most ruthless enemy we have.” 

“ Is he in this forest ?” 

“Not yet, child. But I fear he is coming. 
The forest-trees are talking about it, and ex- 
pecting him,” responded the Snow- Angel, look- 
ing quickly around her. 

“ What shall we do if he comes ?” faintly in- 
quired Effie. 

“ Seek the shelter of some cavern. I am in 


SNOW ANGEL. 


191 


search of one now. There, little earth-sister 
is not that a light shining through the trees 
over yonder ?” said Flakana steering her 
course low over the forest, in the direction of 
the light. 

“ Oh, yes ! that is a light !” exclaimed Effie 
joyfully. “It is in the front of a great cavern 
too, Elakana. Let us fly swiftly, for just then 
a heavy drop of rain splashed on my^forehead.” 
In another instant Flakana and the child were 
within a deep gloomy cavern, and the rain de- 
scended in torrents, but they were sheltered, 
and felt thankful to rest until the storm should 
cease. 



192 


SNOW ANGEL. 


/ 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE INDIAN WITCH’ S CAYE AND THE MAIDEN. 

So rapid had been the motion of Flakana as 
she whisked into the cavern, that neither she 
nor Effie had time to notice the goblin nature of 
the light that had attracted them hither, until, 
seated upon a heap of dried leaves in a sort of 
alcove in the wall of rock, they shrunk back 
with affright, on seeing that it was not only 
full of faces that glowed out, and faded in 
again, like faces that we sometimes see in 
coals, but bobbed up and down, swayed to 
and fro, and pulled this way and that, as if 
frantic to get away and couldn’t. No, indeed ! 
no getting off, for it was held fast by links of 
great glow-worms, which the restless light kept 
in a fury by its incessant struggles to get 
away ; and they flashed, and glowed, and wrig- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


193 


gled, and twisted until Effie felt quite sick and 
nervous watcliing tliem. From the roof of the 
cavern hung long splinters of crystal, and the 
w r alls were so incrusted w r ith it that they glit- 
tered as if set with millions of diamonds and 
rubies. When Effie’s eyes had become some- 
what accustomed to the dazzling radiance that 
flashed out from the thousands of crystalline 
points all around her, and Flakana had whis- 
pered to her that they were safe, she began to 
peer around sharply; and while gazing back 
into the distant recesses, trying to make out 
their hidden secrets, she was startled by a pro- 
longed growl, and saw at the same instant a 
blue- eyed little maiden, with long floating yel- 
low tresses, flutter out of the shadow into the 
centre of the cavern, where she stood wringing 
her hands and looking wildly around her. Then 
she crept into a corner, where she sat sobbing 
and lamenting as if her poor heart would burst 
with grief. “Oh, mammal oh, my mamma! 
oh ! oh ! oh ! I am so hungry ! I am so afraid ! 
Cloco will eat me! Our Father who art in 
Heaven — ! Oh ! oh ! my heart will break if I 
17 


194 


SNOW ANGEL. 


can’t get away!” and the little creature’s prayers 
were broken into fragments by her sobs. Then 
Effie saw to her amazement that a fair and 
beautiful spirit, brighter than Flakana, stooped 
and gathered into a little casket a heap of 
jewels that seemed to fall from the maiden’s 
lips and eyes. • Just then came another loud 
terrific growl from the recesses of the cave, 
and out walked a great, ferocious black bear, 
who went up and sniffed all round the blue- 
eyed maiden, muttering, “ She’s not so fat as 
the rabbits.” Then a moose, which had been 
asleep in a corner, raised his splendid antlers, 
winked his big sleepy eyes at the bear as he 
passed by, saying: “I am a light sleeper, 
Bruin. It is true, rabbits are better for the 
digestion than little girls.” 

“ Yes, yes !” said the cowardly bully, “ I like 
rabbits. I only want to see if Cloco had given 
the maid something to eat.” 

“Don’t trouble yourself like that again, 
Bruin. Save your gouty toes. I’ll take care 
of the blue-eyed maiden,” said the moose nod- 
ding his antlers, which were sharp and strong. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


195 


“ You’re a great dandy — who but you !” mut- 
tered the bear, grinding bis tusks with rage, as 
be went towards bis lair. “ I’ll have a dinner 
off your fat haunches yet, and would have had 
it long ago but for your infernal antlers.” Then 
he curled himself up, and shut his fiery eyes, 
pretending to be asleep. 

“ Oh, Flakana !” cried Effie, “is not the moose 
good. Ha ! ha ! ha ! didn’t he huff the fat old 
cowardly bear nicely. Let me go and kiss the 
blue-eyed maiden, and put my arms around 
the moose, and tell him how much I love him.” 

“ Do so, little earth-sister,” replied Flakana ; 
“ I will take a few moments’ sleep, for I am very 
weary. But do not go near the bear.” 

Then Effie crept over to the maiden, crept 
very noiselessly, and placing her arm around 
her, whispered softly : “ Who are you, little 
maid ; and why do you weep ?” 

“ My name is Fleda, and I am crying for my 
mamma and my brother !” she sobbed. 

“Where are they, Fleda?” inquired Effie, 
kissing her poor little white face. “ Tell mo 
all about them, will you ?” 


196 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ I don’t know where they are. The savage 
Indians came in the dead of night, when we 
were all asleep, and set fire to our house ; I 
heard dreadful yells, and my mamma’s voice 
screaming and begging, and I heard my little 
brother’s cries ; then the chief, a frightful look- 
ing creature, all painted with stripes of black 
and white, with his hair painted red and stand- 
ing up like bristles all over his head, took me 
away, and brought me here to his mother, who 
is a witch. Oh, me ! oh, me !” 

“ Poor little thing, don’t cry so,” said Effie, 
compassionately. “ Does she beat you ?” 

“ Oh, yes ! She beats me and starves me be- 
cause I won’t marry her son, the bear in the 
corner. The moose says he’ll take care of 
me, and he would carry me away, but, you see, 
he’s tied by the hoof and can’t get off.” 

“ ril untie his hoof ; so don’t cry any more, 
but tell me all about that frightful light over 
there,” said Effie, bravely. 

“That light is a ‘Will-o’-wisp/ The old 
witch found it in the swamp down in the hol- 
low. Oh, but it frightens me almost to death. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


197 


It keeps watch there day and night ; and don’t 
yon see that it is full of faces? Well, when- 
ever I so much as move, they all turn round, 
and grin and nod at me.” 

“ Where is the witch to-night ?” 

“ Gone down to the river to catch jumping 
mullets. It is her favorite fish, and as they are 
caught only by night, she is very often away 
nearly all night.” 

“ I hear a strange, shrill, puffing noise. Does 
the wind sound like that here ?” asked Effie, 
starting around. 

“That is Cloco coming,” cried the child, 
trembling in every limb. “ Run, run and hide, 
little girl, or she’ll eat you !” 

“ Won’t she eat you ?” 

“ No. She wants me to marry her son the 
bear. Now run,” said the blue-eyed maid, 
kissing Effie. 

“ Moose, good moose,” whispered Effie, as 
she ran past, “ I’ve got a nice sharp little knife 
in my pocket, and I will cut the rope that fast- 
ens you to the wall, if you will take the blue- 
eyed maid away to-night.” 

IV* 


198 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ Bless your bright black eyes, that I will,” said 
the moose ; “ but run away, the witch is coming.” 

Sure enough, with cloud and wind — with a 
wheezing and puffing — in she whirled. Her 
eyes were like balls of fire, her nose like a big 
sweet potato, and full of knobs. Her mouth 
had snags instead of teeth, and was big enough 
to swallow a pumpkin. Her ears were so large 
that they flapped to and fro whenever she 
moved, and her skin was brown and shrivelled. 
She looked at least a thousand years old. 

“ Halloo !” she screamed, “ I smell stran- 
gers ! Who’s here ? Don’t you hear me — 
who’s here ?” she roared, shaking the poor 
maiden by the shoulder. 

“ No one. I see no one,” she gasped. 

“ No one, do you say ? I’ll eat your pale 
face if you tell me lies.” 

“ Indeed I see no one, Cloco. I am blind 
with crying. But I won’t cry any more, if you 
don’t scold.” 

“ And you’ll marry my son to-morrow ?” 

“ Yes, I’ll marry Bear to-morrow — if I am 
here,” she added, in a low whisper. 


SNOW ANGEL.— Page 19S. 



# 


































































SNOW ANGEL. 


199 


“ What’s that ? what’s that ? I hear you. 
£ If you are here.’ So, where do you expect to 
be, pale face ?” cried the witch, fiercely clutch- 
ing her arm. 

“ Dead,” answered the maiden. “ Don’t you 
see that I shall die if I don’t get something to 
eat — I am so hungry?” 

“ My son’s bride must not starve,” replied 
the frightful witch, with a smile that increased 
her ugliness to such a degree that Effie almost 
screamed out, she was so terrified. Then she 
dived her hand down into her deep pockets, 
and said : “ Here — here’s baked dog’s meat, 
here’s broiled partridge, here’s some maize 
cakes, and some wild celery and grapes. Take 
them all, my beauty, and go over yonder in 
that corner where the dried leaves are heaped 
up, and eat your supper while I clean my fish.” 

tc Thank you ! oh, thank you, Cloco ! Won’t 
we have a brave wedding feast to-morrow !” 
exclaimed the maiden, as she gathered all the 
nice things together in her apron. She looked 
at the moose, and then he winked his great 
black eyes at her; then what should she do 


200 


SNOW ANGEL. 


but run into the very corner where the Snow- 
Angel and Effie were concealed ; but Flakana 
was invisible to her. She divided her supper 
with Effie, who gave the nicest bits to Flakana. 
Then they whispered together and grew merry, 
laughing in their sleeves at the old ogress, who 
was singing in fearful tones a scalpilig song 
which made the cavern resound, while she 
cleaned her mullets. Effie peeped around at 
the moose, and the moose peeped at Effie, and 
they winked their black eyes at each other, 
until they came near laughing out at the idea 
of outwitting the cruel old hag. 

“What are those things flaunting there in 
the wind at the entrance of the cavern?” asked 
Effie. 

“ Scalps of women and children murdered by 
her sons !” answered the maiden simply. 

“Oh, the cruel, cruel wretch!” cried Effie, 
shuddering, as she set her white teeth together, 
and felt in her pocket for her knife. “ Look 
here, blue-eyed Fleda,” she added, as she drew 
it out and opened the bright blade : “ Just so 
so soon as she goes to sleep I’ll cut the rope 


SNOW ANGEL. 


201 


that binds the moose ; do you mount his back, 
and then off like the wind.” It was well for 
Effie that the wind was making a great tumult 
around the cavern just then, otherwise Cloco 
must have heard and discovered her. 

“ But the lights over there ! they are full of 
eyes, and ' when any thing goes wrong the 
Will-o’-Wisp whistles like a trumpet !” sobbed 
the maiden. 

“ What shall I ever do, then ?” asked Effie, 
despondingly. 

“Do you see that great, wriggling, pop-eyed 
glow-worm at the bottom of all the rest?” whis- 
pered the maiden Fleda in a low, frightened 
tone. “ He holds them all tight. He is an en- 
chanted Sioux brave, who killed one of Cloco’s 
sons in battle. Cut his head right off with the 
sharp blade of your knife, then out go all the 
rest. I heard her tell the secret to the bear 
last night.” 

“ That’s easy. Only I don’t w r ant to murder 
the Sioux brave,” said Effie stoutly. 

“It won’t kill him; it will disenchant him,” 
said Fledst. 


202 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“What’s that you’re saying?” shouted the 
witch, laying about her with the short paddle 
with which she beat the water when she was 
catching mullets. She had been nodding over 
the coals after a surfeit of baked dog-meat 
and fish, and having almost lost her balance, 
she awoke just in time to hear the sound of 
Fleda’s whisper. 

“ I am talking to the mole over here in the 
corner !” cried Fleda. 

“ Go to sleep, go to sleep, or I’ll break your 
ribs like a sparrow,” she roared. Then she 
snored and snored, until the air in the cave 
trembled with the horrid noise. 

Flakana, awakened by the sounds of the 
witch’s snoring, looked out to see if the storm 
had ceased, and, to her great joy, perceived that 
the stars were shining and not a cloud was to 
be seen. Effie crept around behind the witch, 
slowly and lightly, her penknife open in her 
hand : the bear gave a loud unearthly growl in 
his lair ; the witch gave a snore that sounded 
like the charge of a trumpet, and reeled and 
tottered on her seat over the coals, until Effie 


SNOW ANGEL. 


203 


thought she’d tip over every instant. She 
reached the moose, and knelt down to cut the 
deer-skin rope that confined him to the cavern 
wall. Swiftly she plied the blade, deftly she 
cut shred after shred of the tough liga- 
ments with her strong little fingers, until the 
last one was severed, and the noble moose was 
free. He licked her hands, and whispered : 
“ Send the maiden Fleda to me. Do you and 
the beautiful angel go out swiftly, cut the glow- 
worm’s head off as you go, and wait for us near 
the shore of the lake that lies at the foot of the 
mountain beyond the forest.” 

Effie slipped back, laughing fit to kill herself 
at what she had done ; then she told Flakana 
and the maiden all that had passed. Elakana 
placed her arm about Effie, and Fleda went on 
tiptoe as noiselessly as a shadow to the lair 
of the moose, and after embracing him she 
mounted on his back and held on tight to his 
antlers. At the same moment Effie bravely cut 
off the big glow-worm’s head, and off bounded 
the Will-o’-'Wisp, bobbing crazily up and down 
through the wet forest, leaving the cavern in 


20 4 


SNOW ANGEL. 


sudden darkness, except where a few coals 
glowed at the witch’s feet. With a strong 
swift leap the moose sprang up, and jumping 
quite over the old hag, struck her senseless 
with his hind hoofs ; and Effie thought she saw 
a dusky warrior in war plumes dancing over 
her, with an uplifted knife in his hand, as the 
moose, with Fleda on his back, dashed into the 
depths of the forest with a cry of exultation. 

“We have no more time to spare, little earth- 
sister. After we meet our friends on the lake 
shore we must speed on our journey.” In a short 
time they saw the waters of the lake gleaming 
in the moonshine, and swiftly descending to the 
shore, were met by the moose and the blue- 
eyed Fleda, who thanked Effie over and over 
again for her kindness, in so bravely rescuing 
them both from a bondage more bitter than death. 

“ I am glad now that the rain drove us into 
that cavern,” said Effie, whose heart expanded 
with happiness. “ I thought it was dreadful at 
first. But, good moose, I thought I saw a 
plumed warrior dancing over the prostrate 
body of the cruel witch.” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


205 


“ That was the Sioux brave, whose encliant- 
ment you ended by cutting off the big glow- 
worm’s head. He will kill her, no doubt,” an- 
swered the moose. 

“ Oh, dear me, I hope not !” cried Effie, 
shrinking back. “ That is dreadful.” 

“Justice is terrible,” said Elakana, “ wffien 
crime is punished. Were it otherwise, where 
would the sons and daughters of earth fly for 
refuge from the excesses of the wicked ? We 
have helped each other to-night against the 
wicked. Eemember, then, O children of earth, 
that even in your darkest griefs, there are 
others even still more grieved, whom you may 
console and aid. We must part. Aldebaran 
is winking, and Arcturus pales in the approach- 
ing dawn. Farewell, blue-eyed maiden. May 
you find those you seek. Farewell, faithful 
moose. May no hunter’s arrow ever pierce 
your noble heart.” Effie threw her arms around 
Fleda and kissed her, and caressed the face of 
the good moose, as he bowed his antlers over 
her head, and looked a loving farewell out of 
his great soft eyes. 


18 


206 


SNOW ANGEL. 


CHAPTER X. 

HOW THE CROW RESCUED THEM. — THE OLD SAGA. 

A rapid and ceaseless flight, which continued 
from dawn until twilight, took them far on 
their journey. . And now that the shadows of 
night were floating silently up from the west, 
the Snow- Angel felt the need of a few hours’ 
rest for herself and the child, and descending 
swiftly earthward, sought a place of repose in 
a dusky, weird-looking forest. The trees were 
all lofty, with long, tangled gray mosses hang- 
ing from their topmost branches to the very 
earth. Hanging, and waving in every breath 
of wind, they were like so many elfish banners, 
which gave every thing in that shadowy place 
a grim and haunted aspect. Flakana soon 
found a sheltered, mossy spot, into which the 
dead leaves had drifted in heaps ; while over- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


207 


head, and all around them, drooped the gray 
tangled mosses, curtaining them about like a 
tent. 

“ We will rest us here, little earth-sister,” 
said the Snow- An gel : “ rest and sleep for a 
while.” And the child, weary enough, rested 
her head on Flakana’s bosom, and, covered 
with her soft wings, soon fell asleep. She did 
not know how long she had slumbered — it 
seemed but a very short time to her — when she 
was awakened by Flakana’s starting up, trem- 
bling and in haste, and, casting a frightened 
glance about her, she saw a deep red glow 
shining^ through the trees, and the weird-like 
mosses were swaying distractedly to and fro ; 
whilst hopping around their feet, with frantic 
gestures, a crow flapped his black wings, and 
shouted, “ Caw ! caw ! caw !” at the top of 
his voice. Hissing sounds, and a fierce crack- 
ling roar, accompanied by an intolerable heat, 
were now heard, while the fiery glow deepened 
and brightened through the bare trees and the 
swaying messes. 

“ Caw ! caw ! caw ! caw ! caw !” still scream- 


208 


SNOW ANGEL. 


ed the crow. The lurid light and the dismal 
sounds increased every instant. 

“ Bless my heart, Mr. Crow,” exclaimed Ef- 
fie, impatiently, “ did you never see the sun 
rise before ?” The Snow- Angel trembled and 
looked affrightedly around her. At last she 
faltered out : “ It is the Eire Spirit, child, our 
greatest and most powerful enemy. We are 
surrounded by his legions, and I fear there is 
no escape — ” 

“ Caw ! caw ! caw ! caw ! caw !” shouted the 
crow, fluttering upon Effie’s shoulder. 

“ No escape. If we attempt to rise upwards, 
we shall be scorched to death. Are you afraid 
to die, little earth-sister ?” 

“ Oh, it is a dreadful thing,” cried the child, 
wringing her poor little hands, and thinking of 
her pale mother and her sisters and brother at 
home. 

“ Caw ! caw ! caw !” screamed the crow on 
her shoulder. “ I was so scared that I lost the 
power of speech,” he said. “ I have not forgot 
your kindness to the miserable frog. I have 
followed you. I saw the fire attack the old 


SNOW ANGEL. 


209 


moss-trees. I awoke the Snow-Angel. Follow 
me. Follow me. Caw! caw! caw!” 

Off he hopped around a thick clump of furze- 
bushes, further back into the forest, and down 
into a hollow which the spirits of flame had not 
yet reached, although they were coming swift- 
ly, with a mad roar, towards it, and thousands 
of sparks were flying, like fire-tipped arrows, 
in glittering showers among the dry leaves. 

“ Now’s your time,” said the crow, flapping 
out the sparks with his dusky wings as fast as 
they fell. “ Rise swiftly, Angel Flakana — 
swiftly, before your fierce enemy discovers your 
flight.” 

“ We will meet again, generous crow. My 
father, the Snow-King, will reward your kind- 
ness,” said Flakana, who was almost overcome 
by the presence of her dreadful enemy. 

“ Never mind thanking me now,” said the 
crow, looking foolish. “ Do you get out of this 
as swiftly as your wings can bear you, with the 
little earth-maiden.” Then, placing her arm 
about Eflie, the Snow-Angel arose, slowly at 
first, then more swiftly, then stronger and in 
18 * 


210 


SNOW ANGEL. 


stronger flights, until at last they were beyond 
all reach of danger ; while the faithful crow re- 
mained where they had left him, and continued 
to beat out the sparks with his wings until they 
were out of sight. The whole heavens were 
alight with the blazing forest, and as from afar 
off they looked in that direction, it appeared 
like a sea of fire rolling great billows of flame 
from shore to shore. They feared that the 
faithful and generous crow had lost his life in 
serving them ; but far in the night, when. all 
had become dark and silent around their flight, 
they heard a fluttering of awkward wings, and 
the signal cry of the crow in the distance, who 
was seeking his way homeward through the 
dusky shadows. Effie called out with all her 
might, to let him know that all was well with 
them, but he had drawn his hood over his ears 
to keep out the cold, and did not hear her. 

“ Oh, Flakana ! I will never despise a crow 
again. He saved our lives,” said the child. 

“ Little earth-sister, it is not among the great, 
or the rich, or the beautiful that we must look 
for the noblest acts, nor must we despise any 


SNOW ANGEL. 


211 


living creature. The despised crow saved us, 
when the eagle, the handsome wild pigeons with 
their shining plumage, the orioles, and the red- 
breasts fled shrieking out of the forest, thinking 
of nothing but their own safety.” 

“ The dear old crow ! I wish he’d come with 
us,” cried the child. “ But, Flakana, I am 
sleepy — so sleepy and cold ! Oh, dear, if is 
bitterly cold !” 

“ Have courage, darling earth-sister. Press 
closer to my bosom, and put your poor little 
benumbed fingers underneath my wings. We 
must fly swiftly, swiftly. I must use both my 
wings. We must hasten with full speed now 
to my father’s court. The perils we have 
escaped give strength to my wings. When we 
get to the Golden Islands, a pearl chariot drawn 
by white swans will be waiting for us. Then 
our worst troubles will be over.’ 

“ The Golden Islands ! Where are they ?” 

“In a sea which lies far beyond the ice 
mountains of the north. Ice mountains which 
guard the calm seas that stretch around my 
father’s dominions. No ship can ever get into 


212 


SNOW ANGEL. 


those bright, silent seas, and no living thing ex- 
cept the arctic whale, the white bear, seals, 
eagles, and swans and penguins,” replied the 
Snow-Angel. 

“ Oh, how I wish we were there ! The Golden 
Islands, and the pearly chariot drawn by swans ! 
I never heard of any thing so grand,” mur- 
mured the child, half asleep. Beautiful visions 
floated through her brain until a profound slum- 
ber stole over all of her senses. On, and on, 
and on, they sped ; over blue sunlit mountains ; 
over richly variegated countries ; over bright 
flashing seas ; over ancient cities ; over ruined 
temples ; over smoking volcanoes ; over flowery 
valleys; over bleak and craggy shores, and 
endless forests, the Snow-Angel held her swift 
way. She knew not where the angry spirits of 
Bain and Fire might be lurking, and feared to 
rest. By and by they came to a country where 
the snow lay in unbroken whiteness over hill 
and vale, where men dressed in skins, and 
where their breath froze on their beard, and 
left long icicles depending from every hair. 
Where only the gray eagle and white stag 


SNOW ANGEL. 


213 


could live in the open air. Where millions and 
millions of diamonds seemed strewn over the 
surface of the snow, and where the lightest 
breeze would set in motion millions of frozen 
atoms, which glistened in the sunlight like 
floating stars. Where the streets of the cities 
were nearly deserted, and where at last the 
Snow- Angel, wearied with her ceaseless flight, 
was obliged to take refuge in the bell-tower of 
a great cathedral, from whose altars and choirs 
incense and music arose together, and the child 
heard thousands of voices blending together in 
one grand chorus, singing — 

Rest, ye worldly tumults, rest ! 

Here let all be peace and joy : 

Grief no more shall rend our breast. 

Tears no more shall dim our eye — 

Khavalsim Boga ! 

Kavalim Boga ! Kavilim Boga ! Kavalim Boga 1* 

Up swelled the chorus “ Hallelujah,” like the 
sound of the surging sea, making the bells in 

* The hymn chanted in the Russian churches during the 
“ Procession of the Cup.” 


214 


SNOW ANGEL. 


the tower shiver with a joyous thrill ; and 
Flakana, folding her hands on her bosom, sang 
softly with them, “ Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! Hal- 
lelujah !” With these sounds of joy and triumph 
pealing in mellow tones around her, the child 
fell asleep. The bright sunlight, gleaming in 
her eyelids, awoke her, and she saw that they 
were far on their journey. Towards evening 
the Snow-Angel descried something far below 
them that pleased her, and floating swiftly 
down, stood, with Effie, on the shores of a beau- 
tiful lake, where a great many swans, white and 
black, were disporting and spreading out their 
soft plumage to the sun’s rays. As soon as 
they saw Flakana they uttered shrill cries of 
joy, and came flocking around her ; and she 
spoke gentle and loving words to them, caress- 
ing their beautiful, soft plumage, and allowing 
them to kiss her hands. 

“ I have not a moment to stay,” she said, 
kindly. “ I have only come to beg a cloak for 
my little earth-sister here, who is very cold.” 

“ Oh, yes ! oh, yes ! oh, yes !” cried several 
at once. “ Wait a moment, fair Angel. Wait 


SNOW ANGEL. 


215 


a moment. Up there, hanging on the trees, 
are our down-cloaks. She shall have the hand- 
somest of them all.” In a short time they 
brought the Snow-Angel an elegant cloak of 
eider-down, which she wrapped about the 
almost frozen limbs of the child, who thanked 
the kind swans in a few modest, grateful words, 
which pleased them amazingly ; after which, 
clasping Flakana’s waist, they swiftly soared 
up again into the cold and glittering air. 

That evening the sun was setting clear and 
crimson behind the snow-clad mountains. It 
was intensely cold ; so bitterly cold that Fla- 
kana’s wings were almost frozen, and she told 
the child that they must spend the night in a 
cavern. Flakana soon espied a cave, and 
quickly descending, they entered its broad 
opening. Far back they saw an old Saga, with 
a white beard reaching to his waist, and 
wrapped in a fur cloak, warming his fingers 
over a charcoal fire. Above his head, on a 
projection of rock, was perched a splendid 
white eagle, who was asleep. “ We are with 
friends,” whispered Flakana joyfully. 


216 


SNOW ANGEL. 


The Saga arose as soon as he saw the 
strangers, and came forward to offer them the 
hospitalities of his abode. The eagle, hearing 
the sound of voices, fluttered his strong pinions 
and stretched out his neck, winking his fierce 
red eyes at the Saga’s guests ; then, with a shrill 
scream of welcome, he flew down from his 
perch and nestled at Flakana’s feet. 

“ Why, old Eric, art thou here ?” exclaimed 
the Snow-Angel, smoothing his white crest. 

“ Yes, Angel Flakana. His majesty the 
Snow-King, uneasy at thy long absence, sent 
me to these outskirts of his dominions in 
search of you.” 

“ Thanks, faithful Eric. I hope to reach 
Labra Arc to-morrow. Good Saga, may we 
rest — my little earth-sister and I — here to- 
night ?” 

“ I shall feel too much honored to have such 
guests. Flakana’s name is no stranger to me. 
The best that my poor cave affords is at thy 
disposal,” replied the Saga, leading the way to 
the recesses of the cave, where he offered them 
a resting-place on a pile of skins and swan’s- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


217 


down. Then he warmed some porridge over 
the coals, and brought a bowl’ of reindeer’s 
milk and some dried fruits and fish, which he 
courteously spread out before them. The child 
thought it a famous feast, and ate her fill, while 
she grew merry with the venerable Saga, whose 
keen blue eyes, red cheeks, and long snowy 
beard delighted her ; besides, he was so kindly 
and gentle in his ways, that, after supper, she 
crept close to him, and sitting at his feet, 
leaned her arms upon his knees while he con- 
versed with Flakana. Conversed in a language 
which she could not understand, and she was 
much too well-bred a child to interrupt them 
every instant to ask what they were talking 
about. But the upshot of the conversation 
w T as, that Eric, the white eagle, was dispatched 
instantly back to the Snow-King to announce 
the coming of Elakana and the child. Awhile 
longer, Effie watched the countenances of the 
Saga and the Snow-Angel. It sounded like 
gibberish, what they were saying, but it was 
enough for her to see the pleasant smiles 
breaking over Elakana’s face, and see the keen 
19 


218 


SNOW ANGEL. 


blue eyes of the Saga dancing with delight, 
and his white, silky beard shaking with laugh- 
ter. After awhile, turning to the child, he laid 
his hand softly on her head, saying : “ Thou 
art a good, patient little one, and I will tell 
thee a story concerning a very strange thing 
that happened to my grandfather once. Ha ! 
ha! You understand me, now that I speak 
French. I learnt French at Moscow, when I 
was tutor to the sons of the Czar.” 

“ I shall be very glad to hear a story, Saga. 
There’s nothing I like half so well,” replied 
Effie, pleasure beaming on her countenance. 

“ Yery well, my child. My grandfather was 
a great naturalist, and this strange thing ac- 
tually happened to him. It is recorded in the 
Muscovite annals. Now listen. My grand- 
father was a Vakir y and devoted himself to 
science and religion. One day in his rambles 
he trod where the ground re-echoed his foot- 
steps. ‘ It must be hollow here,’ thought he : 
* I will dig, and I shall find a treasure.’ He dug, 
and discovered a spring, from which a naked 
and beautiful maiden sprung forth. £ Who art 


SNOW ANGEL. 


219 


thou, loveliest daughter of Heaven?’ said he. 
‘ My name,’ she replied, ‘ is Truth : lend me 
thy mantle.’ This he refused to do, and she 
hastened to the city, where the poets found 
fault with her figure, and the courtiers with her 
manners, and the merchants with her simplici- 
ty. She wandered about, and none would give 
asylum, till she fell in with the court news- 
writer, who thought she might prove a very 
useful auxiliary. But she blotted out whatever 
he composed, so that no news was published 
for many days ; and the sultan sending for his 
news-man to inquire the cause of his silence, 
was told the history of the intrusive guest, who 
was in consequence summoned to court. Here, 
however, she was so extremely troublesome, 
turning every thing upside down with her 
straightforward questions and answers, that it 
was determined to convey her away, and the 
sultan ordered her to be buried alive in his 
garden. His commands were obeyed by his 
courtiers ; but Truth, who always springs up in 
the open air, arose from her grave, and after 
wandering about for some time found the door 


220 


SNOW ANGEL. 


of the public library open, and going in she 
amused herself with burning all the books that 
were there, except two or three. Again stray- 
ing forth in search of an abode she met a 
venerable Saga, to whom she told her sad 
story. He received her into his house with 
cordial welcome, and invited her into his 
museum of stuffed birds and beasts, and pre- 
served insects. * Thou hast no discreetness/ 
he said. * In the world thou art forever getting 
into scrapes. Now, take the counsel of an old 
man ; make this museum thy abode. Here thou 
hast a large choice of society, and here thou 
may’st dwell in peace.’ Truth found the ad- 
vice so reasonable that she adopted it ; since 
when, her voice is only heard in the language 
of fable, and her chosen interpreters are the 
animal creation.” * 

“Aha! I think I understand!” exclaimed 
the child, and laughing merrily and clapping 
her hands. “ I have a story to tell, also. One 
day a lady came to see my mamma, and brought 


* From tlie Russian. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


221 


with her her daughter, who was about fourteen 
years old, who told my sister that ‘ she did not 
think her beautiful at all, although she believed 
she was very good.’ And her mamma turned 
red, and said : ‘ My love, I am quite shocked. Will 
you never have tact ?’ And she said, half cry- 
ing : ‘ What is tact, mamma ? Is it telling lies ? 
If that is tact, I don’t want it.’ The old Saga 
and Flakana laughed, and he smoothed the 
dark clustering hair back from the child’s fore- 
head, and looked down into her black flashing 
eyes with wonder. He had never seen in all his 
long life before a human being with black eyes, 
and they were as great curiosities to him as 
black diamonds would be to us. 

“ Aha !” he said, “ thou wilt, one of these 
days, make it out. Go to sleep now, little tired 
one, and dream about it.” So he stooped over 
and kissed the child’s head, then he blessed her 
and bade them good-night. Wrapped in her 
eider-down cloak, Effie cuddled herself up on 
her couch of skins, and after ruminating on all 
that the Saga had told her, she fell into a sweet 
refreshing sleep. 


19 * 


222 


SNOW ANGEL. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE MIDNIGHT SUN. — THE SNOW-KING’S PALACE. 

The next morning by day-dawn the Snow- 
Angel, having bid the venerable Saga a friendly 
adieu and folded the child safe and warm 
under her wing, resumed her flight, soaring 
and skimming through the frosty air with a 
motion as rapid as a swallow’s. The cold was 
so intense that the child dared not uncover her 
face to see whither they were going ; but to- 
wards evening, the sharp cutting breeze hav- 
ing died away, Flakana put aside the eider- 
down cloak, and, kissing her forehead, bade 
her look around her, and she ventured to peep 
out. They were then hovering over a frozen 
ocean, covered in some places with huge blocks 
of ice, and in others with irregular formations 
which looked like frozen surf. No living things 


SNOW ANGEL. 


223 


were to be seen, except great shaggy white 
bears prowling about, and long processions of 
penguins, which stood as motionless as if they 
were frozen ; and the only sign that they were 
not, was a peculiar, drowsy-sounding, “ Auk ! 
auk ! auk !” which wound through the still 
frozen air like the blowing of distant horns. 
All around the margin of the ocean, as far as 
the eye could reach, and rising in some places 
from its midst, were lofty hills of crystal, cas- 
tles and cathedrals, steeples, obelisks, and tow- 
ers of solid ice, which were all gleaming, as if 
set with diamonds, in the golden light of the 
setting sun. Every color of the rainbow flashed 
around them, and the highest peaks were burn- 
ing with crimson and gold. 

“ These, little earth-sister, are the dominions 
of my aunt the Ice-Witch, but we have no time 
to stop,” said Flakana. 

The child was sorry that they could not stop 
for a little while, that she might hear what the 
bears were in such a rage about, and what the 
penguins were talking of, as they stood there, 
for all the world, like a procession of Domini- 


224 


SNOW ANGEL. 


can monks, thinking grave and solemn thoughts. 
But the Snow- Angel told her that they were 
not very far then from the Golden Islands, and 
she was quite satisfied, because she knew that 
there the pearly chariot drawn by white swans 
awaited their coming. She had been thinking 
and dreaming of them the whole day with such 
anticipations of delight, that every instant ap- 
peared long until she saw them; But by and 
by a dreadful thought passed through her 
mind, and she called Flakana. 

“ What is it, darling ?” asked the Snow- 
Angel. 

“ See, Flakana !” she said, pointing to the 
sun, now almost out of sight. “ It will be night 
presently, and the swans may not see us when 
we get there, and so go away.” Flakana 
smiled, and paused a few moments with her 
face towards the west, and, to the child’s 
amazement, the sun, which she thought had 
disappeared for the night, majestically lifted 
his splendid disk above the marge of the frozen 
ocean, with a slow and solemn mption ; bright- 
ening up the dreary, death-like scenes with 


SNOW ANGEL. 


225 


dazzling glory, he slanted eastward, until a 
noontide splendor lit the air, and the ice-peaks 
flamed again in his rays. 

“ We shall have light enough, little earth- 
sister,” said Flakana, smiling, as she smoothed 
back the thick curls from the child’s wondering 
face. “ This is what we call our £ midnight 
sun ;’ but it is only at certain periods of the 
year that we see — what is, even to us spirits — 
this magnificent spectacle. In my father’s em- 
pire the days are very short and the nights 
extremely long, but more brilliant than any 
thing this side heaven, with resplendent and 
glittering lights of every hue, which make the 
snowy wastes and plains appear as if they 
were strewn with rainbows. It is brighter at 
night there than the brightest noonday else- 
where. Our flight will soon be ended. Be- 
yond that barrier of ice-mountains, where the 
sea is blue and bright, and upon whose shore 
no human foot has ever trodden, lie the Golden 
Isles. They are immense blocks of amber, 
white and red coral, and rare sea-shells, all 
thrown and blended together with beautiful 


226 


SNOW ANGEL. 


islands, wliicli are tufted witli sea-mosses and 
flowers of indescribable loveliness. Wliite, and 
crimson, and blue sea-birds skim the sea, and 
make their nests among the cliffs of the Golden 
Isles ; and the white whale, the dolphin, and 
black swans, whose plumage is tipped with 
gold, disport around them.” The child listened, 
almost wild with expectation. 

When they reached the Golden Islands, Fla- 
kana, ever on the lookout, showed the child 
where the chariot of pearl was moored. There 
it was at last! rocking gently on the undulating 
waves, while the swans, which were harnessed 
to it, patient and drowsy, were blinking at the 
goldfish that were swimming in shoals around 
them. Here the bitter coldness of the air was 
softened, and the sun shone out warm and 
pleasant. Gazing around with a .sensation of 
rapture at all the loveliness so lavishly spread out 
on every side,. the child noticed that along the 
shores of this beauteous sea trees were growing, 
which appeared to reach the very clouds, cov- 
ered with clusters of flowers whose rich fra- 
grance perfumed the air. Strange birds, with 


SNOW ANGEL. 


227 


plumage of white, of crimson, of blue, of green, 
and of yellow, all bespangled with spots of 
gold, uttering wild joyous notes, darted through 
the air. Towards the north arose a barrier of 
lofty mountains, which were covered with per- 
petual snows. 

Then the Snow-Angel and the child took 
their seats in the shell of pearl, which could be 
used either as a boat or a chariot ; when, with 
a glad flutter of their downy wings and a low 
musical murmur of welcome, the swans drew 
them swiftly over the bright, peaceful billows. 
The child threw off her cloak of eider-down, 
and joyously trailed her hands in the spray 
made by the swift motion of the swans. But 
the Snow- Angel was silent, and when the child 
looked at her, wondering at her silence, she 
appeared so languid and tremulous that she 
feared that she was dying. 

“ What is it, darling Flakana ? Are you ill ?” 
she asked, looking through her tears into the 
Snow- Angel’s languid eyes. 

“ The heat of this region, little earth-sister, 
always makes me languid, and I feel a dread of 


228 


SNOW ANGEL. 


the water. If even a drop should get on me 
it would make a terrible wound,” she replied 
faintly. 

“ Can they not fly?” inquired the child, point- 
ing towards the swans. 

“I thought you were tired of being in the 
air, darling one, and that it would please you 
to float over this beautiful sea,” replied the 
Snow- Angel feebly. 

“ I was tired of being in the air, and do like 
floating over the bright waves ; but I can take 
pleasure in nothing that harms you, Flakana,” 
outspoke the generous child. “ Let us mount 
at once into the air.” 

The Snow- Angel kissed her with a sense of 
great relief, and uttering some words in an un- 
known language to the swans they rose rapidly 
into the upper air, where they glided along so 
smoothly that the child was lulled to sleep by 
the motion. When she awoke, the stars were 
glittering around their course, and high up, 
above all the rest, blazed one of great size and 
splendor, towards which the swans seemed to 
steer their way. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


229 


“We shall soon reach my father’s court,” 
said Flakana. “Yon Star shining before us 
with such splendor is the beacon-light from the 
turret of his palace; and it is guarded by a 
huge bear, whose nose, ears, paws, and tail are 
decorated with diamonds larger than a man’s 
head ; which were presented to him ages ago 
by the Sovereign of all the heavens.” 

“ How wonderful ! Shall we see the bear ?” 
exclaimed the child. 

“ No, little earth-sister ; we can only see his 
decorations. See how they glitter as the palpi- 
tations of his great heart keep them in motion! 
Their dazzling brightness conceals him.” 

“ I should be afraid of him,” said the child in 
an awed tone. “ Indeed I begin to feel dread- 
fully afraid in this strange country. Is your 
father a giant ?” 

“ Yes, he is a giant.” 

“ Does he eat people ?” 

“ Sometimes, when he is very angry, he 
does,” answered Flakana, with drooping head. 

“ Oh, Flakana ! suppose he is angry when we 
get there ?” asked the child with a shudder. 

20 


230 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ Have courage little one. I will try and save 
tliee !” replied the Snow- Angel. “ My father is 
not cruel, but sometimes he is worked up to 
great furies by the misdeeds of his subjects, 
and then, being quite crazed, he gives orders 
and does things for which he is very sorry,” said 
Flakana. 

“ But if he tears me to pieces in his fury, 
his sorrow won’t bring me alive again !” said 
the child growing very white. “ Let us re- 
turn.” 

“ Thou art going to him for a good purpose ; 
thy conscience is fair, and having dared all 
these perils in a good cause, wouldst thou turn 
back?” said the Snow- Angel, with a grieved 
look. “ Be more brave in thy innocence, child, 
and more assured in the justice of thy cause.” 
The child was silent and pondering for some 
time ; then her courage arose again, and when 
she thought of the poor little starving, helpless 
creatures at home, she felt ready to brave any 
danger for their relief. “ I can but die,” she 
said at last, looking up with a brave smile into 
Flakana’s face. “If the wor$t comes, I can 


SNOW ANGEL. 


231 


but die. Only do not leave me, dear angel, 
even for an instant, after we get to the Snow- 
King.” 

“ Be sure of that, precious earth-sister. Thy 
life is my own now. Any violence that may 
cause your death will extinguish my life,” re- 
plied the Snow- Angel, embracing her. 

On, swiftly, and more swiftly, on they speed. 
Wonderful and glorious lights began to gleam 
over the snow- mountains, and along the white 
endless plains. Now crimson, now purple, now 
orange, now white, now violet, now green, now 
pink, the glittering wavering beams shifted to 
and fro ; while pale golden and flame-colored 
sparks glistened in myriads, through their 
tremulous hues. Changing and shifting, blend- 
ing together in magnificent masses, kindling up 
the night with the untold glory of sunrise ; 
separating to throw fiery streams out on the 
wind, or pausing for an instant to pile the 
heavens w r ith majestic columns of crimson and 
gold : there was . no rest. As the swans ap- 
proached more near, the child discerned thou- 
sands of fair spirits, with bright diamond- 


232 


SNOW ANGEL. 


hilted lances, gliding amidst this wondrous 
effulgence, who were clad in gorgeous robes, 
and wore girdles of jewels about their waists ; 
who tilted at each other with their lances, 
which, clashing together, rang out on the air 
with a constant silvery clicking, which sounded 
for all the world like the tinkling of ten thou- 
sand guitars. Nearer and nearer flew the swans 
towards the gold and crimson clime, and the 
child feared that she should be scorched by the 
fiery brightness, or that some of those flashing 
lances might suddenly strike Flakana or herself 
a mortal wound. 

“ Have no fear, little earth-sister. Those are 
my father’s subjects,” said the lovely Snow- 
Angel, folding hey arms about the child as they 
sailed right into the splendors of this wonder- 
ful and glorious region. Parting, right and 
left, the restless beautiful spirits, with lances 
and banners, opened a way for their swan- 
steeds ; and as they bore them swiftly along, the 
spirits all bowed their heads, couched their 
gleaming lances, and waved their banners in 
homage to the Snow-Angel, chanting all the 


SNOW ANGEL. 


233 


while a song of welcome, to which they kept 
time with the ringing of their lances. The 
child was in raptures ! She stretched out her 
hands, and held out her arms to clasp the 
beauteous forms that floated around them ; but 
with a look of affright in their wild glorious 
eyes, they fled back, shrinking from her touch : 
so she was contented to sit perfectly still, and 
smile, nod, and wave her hands towards them. 

“ Has this region no name, loved angel ?” in- 
quired the child. 

“Yes. This is the region of a great en- 
chantress, named Aurora Borealis, who is 
tributary to my father. We are now on its 
confines. Beyond those gray peaks is my 
father’s abode,” answered Flakana. 

At last they came in sight of a lofty palace 
of snow and crystal built on one of the topmost 
crags of a high mountain range. Its windows 
were rubies, amethysts, emeralds, and topaz ; 
all glittering so splendidly in the sunlight that 
the child was obliged to turn away her eyes. 
As the swans were bearing them rapidly towards 
it, the white eagle which they had met in the 
20 * 


234 : 


SNOW ANGEL. 


Saga’s cave, came flying at full speed to meet 
tliem, and told Flakana that the Snow-King 
was on the top of a neighboring mountain, en- 
gaged in very important matters of state, and 
could not receive them until the next day ; but 
that he had issued orders to his servants to 
obey her, and to attend to the entertainment 
of her guest, on the peril of their lives. He 
sent his love and greeting ; but from some cause 
or other, he was in such a state of wrath that 
it was more than one’s life was worth to venture 
into his presence. Flakana gave the white 
eagle a string of diamonds, which she threw 
over his crested head ; then he kissed her hand, 
and with a brighter light in his fierce red eyes, 
he soared away with a scream of exultation. 

“ Give my best love to the Saga, my very 
best love, if you see him,” shouted the child. 

Soon they descended into the court of the 
palace, and Flakana, with a kiss of welcome, 
led the child into the great feasting hall. 
The floor was covered with carpets of eider- 
down, and a long table of amber stood in the 
centre of it, upon which sparkled wines in gob- 


SNOW ANGEL. 


235 


lets of crystal and gold, and where blushed the 
fruits of every clime — grapes, figs, oranges, 
peaches, melons, and apples. And while the 
child, reclining on a divan, where she had 
thrown herself down to rest, gazed around her 
with wonder, in tripped a chamois , then another, 
and another, and another, carrying gravely 
on their backs roasted boar’s meat spiced, an 
oyster-pie, an omelette souffle of sea-birds’ eggs, 
and a boiled turbot. These were followed by 
a young, white bear, who brought in the bread- 
basket ; all of which viands were nicely ar- 
ranged on the amber table by a large brown 
stag, with a white napkin pinned about his 
neck, who — having placed each one of the plat- 
ters with mathematical nicety — courteously in- 
vited Flakana and her guest to dinner. The 
child ate, and laughed, and talked, and asked 
questions without number ; but observing that 
the Snow- Angel was quiet and sad, she remem- 
bered what she had told her about the Snow- 
King’s eating people, and she became very 
silent, and began to think of home. 

“ Don’t be cast down, little earth-sister. 


236 


SNOW ANGEL. 


From certain signs which I have noticed, I 
think that mj father will be gentle with thee,” 
said Flakana, passing her arm fondly about 
the child. “ Cedric, send thy daughters hither 
to play with the maiden.” 

Cedric — that was the stag’s name — instantly 
went out, and soon returned with two beautiful 
milk-white fawns, whose eyes were large and 
brown, whose mouths were red, and whose hoofs 
were shod with silver. They were twins, and 
were never separated, day or night. At first 
they glanced wildly and timidly towards the 
earth-child ; then, obeying a signal from the 
Snow- Angel, they bounded towards her, and 
knelt at her feet to be caressed. Then she in- 
troduced them to the child, whose hands they 
kissed after which they danced gracefully 
around her, saying to each other : “ Beautiful 
is the stranger ! Sweet is the fragrance of her 
breath ! Bright is the love-light in her eyes !” 
The child blushed and said : 

“ I understand all that you say. Do not talk 
of me, if you please. Let us talk of yourselves. 
Tell me who you are, and what are your names ?” 


SNOW ANGEL. 


237 


“ Our names are Hilda and Yidda, tlie 
daughters of Cedric, who is the Snow-King’s 
major-domo,” replied Hilda. “ Our mother is 
dead, and the Princess Flakana adopted us. 
Where do you live, black-eyed stranger ?” 

Then the child told them of her adventures, 
and why she had undertaken the journey. 

“ I wish,” exclaimed Hilda, “ that you had 
brought that funny old governor along. It 
would have been such sport !” 

“ I hope the Snow-King will pity the poor 
oppressed creatures,” said Yidda ; “but he’s in a 
dreadful humor now with his two sons, for some 
reason or other. One dares scarcely speak to 
or look at him. We scamper off, fit to break 
our necks, whenever we hear him coming.” 

“ His sons ?” said the child, while her heart 
sank within her. 

“ Yes ! The North and East Wind. They 
have given him great trouble of late, but I 
don’t know how. I only know that it has kept 
us all in a half-frantic way for some time past, 
they go on so. Don’t you feel afraid of the 
Snow-King, dark-eyed stranger?” 


238 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“Yes I do,” answered the child, bravely, 
“ but I came here for no harm or ill towards 
any living thing. I only came to beseech him 
to help the poor and miserable little creatures 
near my home, whose condition he ought to 
pity. If he kill me for that, I can’t help it.” 

“ You’re as brave as an eagle. That’s right,” 
said Yidda, nodding her head wisely. “ He 
ought to pity them, and reward you for your 
generosity ; and if he/ don’t, I say he’s an old 
blood-thirsty tyrant.” Here the valiant Yidda 
glanced uneasily over her shoulder, and almost 
fell in a fit, when Hilda, full of mischief, jumped 
at her and said, “ Boo !” “ Come on and let 
us have a play,” cried Hilda, beginning to frisk 
around. “ Let us be merry, at any rate, until 
he comes.” Then they played “ Catchee ” up 
and down, round and round that immense hall, 
which was at least a quarter of a league long, 
until the child’s cheeks glowed like roses, and 
the two fawns were panting with fatigue. Then 
they all stretched themselves down on the 
eider-down carpet, laughing and out of breath, 
to rest a little. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


239 


CHAPTER XII. 

HILDA AND YIDDA. — THE SNOW-KING, AND ALL 
THAT HE DID. 

“When yon are quite rested,” said the 
brown-eyed fawn, Hilda, “let us go to the 
room of the white eagles. Should you not like 
to see them ?” 

“ Yes, indeed,” replied the child ; “ that is, 
if they are not fierce and ill-natured.” 

“ Well, the fact is, one has to be uncommonly 
polite to them. They are very proud, and if 
one makes them mad they pounce down and 
fasten their sharp claws about one, and fly off 
with one to the peaks of Labra Arc before one 
knows where one is.” 

“ That’s nothing. To be polite to every one 
is what I have always been accustomed to,” 
replied the child, with a brave, calm smile. 


240 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ There’s another place, Hilda — but, oh, it is 
so dreadful, those still, white, frozen faces ! It 
might frighten her,” said Yidda, with a shud- 
der. 

“ What place is that ?” asked the child. “ I 
should like to. see every thing that is worth 
seeing while I am here.” 

“ I cannot take you there,” replied Hilda. 
“ The Snow-King would put my father to 
death if we even ventured, near it. But I will 
tell you what it is,” she added in a whisper. 

“ What ?” 

“ It is a temple beautiful to behold, and its 
walls and pillars are made of ivory and pearl. 
But it is filled with dead maidens — maidens 
who, from time to time, were brought hither to 
become the brides of the Snow-King, but, some- 
how, by the time they reached here, they all 
became pale, and still, and cold. My father 
says they are dead, whatever that is. So the 
Snow-King had that splendid temple built for 
his frozen brides, and there they are all repos- 
ing on couches of ivory — some with long golden 
curls, some with dark curling tresses, others 


SNOW ANGEL. 


2±1 


with long glossy locks as black as the night it- 
self. And sometimes the Snow-King goes 
there, and, if we are out on the mountain, we 
plainly hear the voice of his weeping.” 

“ Did you and Yidda ever see the dead 
brides ?” asked the child. 

“ Yes. We stole up there once when we 
were very young, and seeing so beautiful a 
place, we marched in, thinking no harm. But 
the Snow-King came while we were running 
from room to room, and if Flakana had not 
been with him, he would have put us to death 
on the spot. So you see we cannot go,” re- 
plied Hilda. 

“ I should not like to go if it is forbidden, 
although I should be pleased to see the dead 
brides in the beautiful temple, if we could get 
leave.” 

“ Come, then, let us go to the room of the 
white eagles,” said Hilda, gayly. 

They entered a lofty chamber, whose white 
walls sparkled with crystals. So lofty was it, 
that pines and hemlocks were growing under 
its roof, among the branches of which were 
21 


242 


SNOW ANGEL. 


perched about twenty white eagles, who, hav- 
ing just devoured three or four fat seals for 
their supper, were about going to sleep. But 
the stir made by the giggling, romping fawns, 
caused them all to start fiercely up and open 
their bright red eyes, while they ruffled their 
plumage furiously. 

“ What have we here ? What have we 
here ? Oh, ye jades, but ye shall take a swift 
journey to Labra Arc in the morning !” 
screamed one of the eagles. 

“We beg pardon,” cried Hilda, frightened 
almost to death ; “ but we meant no harm. 
We only brought a stranger, who came with 
the king’s daughter, to look at your high- 
nesses.” 

Then all the eagles stretched out their necks, 
and bent their sharp red eyes on the child, who 
stood with a sweet, brave smile on her counte- 
nance, gazing up at the splendid creatures, 
when, with a sudden motion, they swooped 
down from the pines and hemlocks, and sur- 
rounded her. But there was no ire in their 
looks. Their plumage was smooth and their 



SNOW ANGEL— Page 242 






















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SNOW ANGEL. 


243 


movements gentle — so gentle, that she smooth- 
ed the crest of the largest, who stood close be- 
side her, and caressed the snowy pinions of 
another. 

“ Beautiful birds,” exclaimed the child, “ I 
meant no harm in coming to see you, and I am 
very sorry that we awoke you.” 

“We are happy to see thee, little maid. It 
is true we are very tired, having come from the 
four quarters of the world to-day : nevertheless, 
thou art very welcome. Where art thou 
from ?” 

“I came from America with the Snow- Angel!” 
rej)lied the child. 

“ From America !” they all cried with a flut- 
ter of joy. “ Dost thou know our cousin there, 
the great American Eagle ?” 

“ I don’t know him, but we all love him, and 
are so proud of him over there that his likeness 
is on our great seals, on our gold and silver 
coin, and on our battle-flags,” replied the child 
quietly. 

“ We have been in great concern about him. 
We heard that he had been stung by a ven- 


244 


SNOW ANGEL. 


omous rattlesnake, and was sick almost unto 
death,” said the old eagle. 

“ Yes,” replied the child gravely ; “ it is all 
true. There’s great trouble everywhere in my 
country. We have the pestilence, the rattle- 
snake, which is stinging every one to death ; 
and we have a dreadful war ; and, as if all that 
were not enough, we have no snow. That’s what I 
am here for, to beg the Snow-King to send us 
snow.” 

“ The Snow-King has his own troubles. His 
two sons, the North-Wind and the East-Wind, 
are breaking his heart ; but he’ll conquer, he’ll 
conquer,” said the old eagle, putting his foot 
down upon* it. 

“ Every one seems to be in tribulation, and I 
think the end of the world must be near at 
hand,” said the child. “ Dear me ! but do you 
not think, sir, that when I tell the Snow-King 
what trouble there is among the ground-squir- 
rels, the wheat nation, and other helpless and 
suffering creatures, he’ll send the snow-spirits 
with cordial and blankets to their relief ?” 

“ Perhaps ! perhaps ! I really think he may. 


SNOW ANGEL. 


245 


He is a great friend and ally of onr cousin, the 
American Eagle. But good-night, brave little 
maid. By day-dawn we have to go to Smyrna 
for figs and to Chios for sweet wines.” 

“ Good-night, eagles !” responded the child, 
waving her hands and curtseying politely. 
The two fawns, Hilda and Yidda, had skipped 
out into the broad hall when the eagles swooped 
down, to be ready for a run if danger threat- 
ened, and there the child found them engaged in 
tickling each other in the ribs near the entrance ; 
but no sooner did they see the eagles spread- 
ing their snowy wings, to fly up to their perches 
on the pines and hemlocks, than, making sure 
that they were to be seized forthwith, they 
made a flying leap, and were off like rockets, 
never stopping until they were under the shel- 
ter of Flakana’s robes. The child clapped her 
hands and laughed. The white eagles laughed 
shrilly as they settled themselves to rest, and 
when the child got back to the banqueting 
hall, the two little cowards, standing close to- 
gether near Flakana, looked ashamed and 
scared, and kept hiding their heads behind each 
21 * 


246 


SNOW ANGEL. 


other to giggle. Their father, the respectable 
brown stag, came in just then and took them 
off, laughing and skipping, to bed. 

“ Come, little earth-sister !” said Flakana, 
holding out her beautiful hands, with a smile on 
her lovely countenance. “We must now go to 
rest ; I have learned something which gives me 
great comfort. My father is a strong ally of 
the great King Eagle of your country. He is 
so much engaged at this time with my brothers 
North- Wind and East- Wind, who have taken 
sides with the rattlesnake, that I fear we shall 
not see him for some days, unless he can bring 
them into subjection.” 

“ But do you think, Flakana, that he will care 
for such poor little starving creatures as the 
ground-squirrels and the wheatonians ?” she 
inquired anxiously. “ You know that an eagle 
is strong enough to fight his own battles, but 
the other poor little things must perish if no 
one helps them.” 

“ My father has always been kind to them, but 
he has had such an endless struggle to keep 
my turbulent brothers in their places, that he 


SNOW ANGEL. 


247 


has not had time to give attention to the affairs 
of the distant portions of his kingdom. But let 
us go to sleep now, for we may possibly be 
summoned early.” The child knelt down, and 
folding her hands, said her simple prayers, and 
nestling close under the Snow-Angel’s wings, 
soon fell asleep. 

From this sleep she was awakened by a tramp- 
ing that shook the earth — a tramping heavy, 
even, and measured; and loud trumpet tones 
in shrill contention — which, however, gradually 
died away, when nothing was heard except the 
loud measured tramping, and soon all was 
silent as before. 

“ My father has come,” said Flakana. 

In a few minutes the brown stag, Cedric, 
entered the banqueting hall and summoned 
the Snow- Angel and the child to his majesty’s 
presence. She said her prayers, smoothed 
back her long dusky curls from her round fair 
forehead, and silently placed her hand in Fla- 
kana’s, ready to accompany her to the dreaded 
presence. She was almost as white as the 
Snow-Angel, and her knees trembled as she 


248 


SNOW ANGEL. 


walked, but for all that, she was firmly brave 
in her good purpose. She had come to plead 
for the helpless and oppressed, and, like the 
good maiden she was, she was determined not 
to flinch at the last moment. But she did not 
look up, no, not even when she stood at the 
foot of the Snow-King’s throne, where every 
thing was as silent as death. 

“What wouldst thou, little earth-maiden?” 
The voice was so solemn and sweet, that the 
child raised her eyes and saw that she was in 
the very presence she had so much dreaded, 
and that it was the Snow-King who had spoken. 
But the dazzling splendors which confronted 
her almost struck her blind. It was not the 
great throne, crusted with pink, white, and yel- 
low diamonds, upon which he sat ; or the canopy 
of golden feathers, fringed with pear-pearls, 
over his head ; or his white velvet robes, covered 
with thousands of turquoise, emeralds, rubies, 
and diamonds, representing the heavenly con- 
stellations ; nor yet the crown of stars upon his 
white head, that so dazzled her sight — it was 
none of these; it was the Snow-King’s eyes, 


SNOW ANGEL. 


249 


which were brighter ten times over than all 
these splendors put together — his eyes, which 
were very large and of a light ultramarine 
blue ; and in the centre of each, instead of there 
being a black pupil as we see in all eyes, there 
gleamed a stab which shot forth rays like the 
sun at noonday. Three rays from each of those 
wonderful eyes streamed out, and lit up the 
magnificence of his throne and vestments with 
such splendor that the child could scarcely en- 
dure its intensity. But gradually her eyes 
grew strong, and she saw, crouched on each 
side of the throne, two young giants, who looked 
so fierce, and sullen, and wild, that she would 
have been terribly afraid had she not observed 
that the Snow-King held them chained to his 
girdle. Four immense white eagles, adorned 
with jewelled necklaces and orders of rank and 
merit, kept guard at the four corners of the 
throne. Another stood at the king’s right 
hand, guarding the standards and banners of 
his empire. Overhead the arched ceiling was 
studded with gems ; in fact, no fairy tale that 
the child had ever read could begin to equal all 


250 


SNOW ANGEL. 


that she saw, and she stood in speechless sur- 
prise at the ineffable splendors of the place, 
and filled with awe by the majestic presence of 
the Snow-King. 

“What brings thee hither, earth-maiden?” 
he again asked. 

“ I have come,” said the child in trembling 
tones, but with a clear brave look into his eyes, 
“ to beg that you will be so merciful as to send 
your snow-spirits to Winona, and the region 
round about. The governor of the ground- 
squirrels, and the governor of the wheat 
nation told me that their people were being 
devoured by their enemies, and were perishing 
with hunger and cold, all for the want of the 
snow-spirits, the blankets, and the cordials, you 
know.” 

“True,” replied the Snow-King. “But in 
what corner of the earth is Winona ?” 

“ It is a beautiful valley in Maryland ?” an- 
swered the child. 

“Maryland! Maryland! Where is Mary- 
land?” inquired the Snow-King, musingly. 

“ Maryland is one of the United States of 


SNOW ANGEL. 


251 


America,” said the child. “ Don’t you know our 
eagle, king?” 

“ Truly do I. Thou art welcome to my court, 
lovely maiden. I will instantly send to my 
chief captain to order off to Winona ten thou- 
sand million battalions of snow-spirits,” ex- 
claimed the king, while his wonderful eyes 
flamed brightly. “Thou art a brave-hearted 
maiden, to have come all this perilous way on 
such an errand. But tell me how my noble 
friend the eagle is.” 

“ He will be able to fly soon,” she replied, 
lifting her head proudly. “He would have 
died of the rattlesnake’s sting but for a great 
young giant, who gave him the blood of his 
heart, from his own veins, to drink, and who 
fights and slays his enemies.” 

“ Aha 1 I think I know that gallant young 
giant. His name is E Pluribus Unum ! the 
greatest, best, and most powerful giant that ever 
lived.” The child smiled brightly, and nodded 
her head. 

“Dost thou see those two surly fellows 
chained to my girdle ?” 


252 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ I see them,” answered the child, shyly. 

“ Those are my two sons, North- Wind and 
East-Wind, who, the moment E Pluribus Unum 
sets his navies in motion to conquer the country 
of the eagle’s great enemy, the rattlesnake*, 
break away, and do their very best to sink 
ships, men, and treasures together. They de- 
serve to be kept in chains until the end of 
time,” said the Snow-King, wrathily, 

“ I am glad that you love my country, Snow- 
King. My mamma, and all of us at home, are 
true-blue. I have a brother, too — he is my 
sister Mary’s husband — in the army of E Plu- 
ribus Unum — my brother Kobert. And Gen- 
eral Germaine is a great general, and he and 
his two sons have fought in ever so many 
battles ; and if I was a man I’d fight too, for the 
honor of my flag. Did you ever see our beau- 
tiful flag, sir ?” exclaimed the child, in a great 
glee. Oh, how I wish you could see it !” 

“ Did I ever see it !” cried the Snow-King, 
making a sign to his standard-bearer, who in- 
stantly unfurled the Star-spangled Banner, 
which, in its magnificence* surpassed all the 


SNOW ANGEL. 


253 


banners the child had ever seen, for its thirty- 
three stars were real stars, and the blue field on 
which they shone was a scrap of the sky, and 
the red and white stripes were painted by the 
sunrise. 

Oh, how it glittered, and how the old Snow- 
King’s eyes shot flaming rays to the right and 
the left, when he lifted his crown from his head 
and stood up to “ huzza,” while the eagles 
flapped their strong wings and shrieked with 
delight ! Flakana and the child danced round 
and round wildly, whilst the splendid banner 
kept waving from the dome over their heads. 
All paid it homage except the two surly giants, 
North-Wind and East-Wind, who stuck out 
their tongues, and putting their thumbs to their 
nose, twirled their fingers, in utter contempt of 
the patriot scene. 

“ Give her jewels ! give her treasure, this 
brave little earth-maiden, who is so true to her 
country, and who loves her flag, not because it 
is a gay bunting, but because it is a sign of 
freedom to all the earth ! Tell the snow-spirits 
to fill their canteens, to bundle up their blank- 
22 


254 


SNOW ANGEL. 


ets and march in double-quick to Winona. But, 
brave, dark-eyed maiden, wilt thou not Stay and 
be my wife ?” 

“ Oh, no ! oh, no !” cried the child, clinging 
affrightedly to Klakana. “ Do not be angry, 
but, indeed, I should die if I were to stay away 
from my dear mamma ; and then,” she added, 
piteously, while tears streamed over her cheeks, 
“ I am such a poor little child.” 

“ All the beautiful young maidens that come 
to me,” said the Snow-King, sadly, “ are still, 

and white, and cold. They never speak or lift 

# 

their eyes. A tall, dusky spirit, with a fair, 
solemn face, who brings them hither from 
time to time, says they turn to marble on the 
way. Thou art the first living maiden that has 
ever entered my dominions. Canst thou not 
stay?” 

“ I cannot stay. I must be gone directly,” 
said the child, faintly but firmly. 

“ Give her treasures ! Load her with precious 
jewels !” cried the Snow-King, rising up from 
his throne and shaking out his glittering robes. 
“ Order my fleetest eagles to convey her safely 


SNOW ANGEL. 


255 


to Winona ; and do thou, Flakana, attend the 
earth-maiden home.” 

North-Wind and East-Wind suddenly sprang 
up and blew a shrill charge on the clarions that 
hung at their girdles, with such fury in their 
eyes that Flakana folded her large snowy wings 
about the child and swiftly fled from their 
presence. * * * * 



256 


SNOW ANGEL. 


CONCLUSION. 

HOW IT WAS. 

We find ourselves once more in Mrs. Varney’s 
room at Glen-Holme. It is midnight. The fire 
glows brightly in the grate. A shaded taper 
throws out a faint light. The tent-] ike drape- 
ries are drawn back from the low French bed- 
stead. On a snowy pillow lies a pale little face, 
around which masses of dark hair cluster. 
Every thing is as silent as the grave. One 
might think the child dead, but for the faint 
breath which scarcely stirs the white night- 
robe over her bosom. She moves, and opens 
her eyes languidly, and looks around her. She 
finds, with surprise, that she is in her own 
mamma’s room at Mrs. Vane’s. There were 
the hyacinths and crocuses, the violets and 
roses in the window ; there the glowing grate ; 
there her angel-sister’s portrait on the wall ; 


SNOW ANGEL. 


257 


and there, with her wan face leaning against 
the dark velvet of the chair in which she re- 
clined, was her mamma asleep. On the centre- 
table, where the lamp and books were, a watch 
was ticking ; a vial of medicine and a table- 
spoon were beside it. 

“ I wonder,” thought Effie, “ what makes 
mamma’s face so very pale. I must have been 
sound asleep when Flakana brought me home. 
Oh, dear me ! I never felt any thing fly like 
those eagles. It took my breath away ! The 
Snow-King is a real jolly old fellow, but he gave 
me a small scare. Where can Flakana be ?” 

Effle attempted to lift up her head to look 
about her, but she was so feeble that she could 
not even move her hands. Mrs. Varney awoke 
with a start, looked at the watch, and dropping 
something into the spoon from the medicine 
vial, came to the bedside. 

“ Mamma,” whispered Effie, “ give me some 
water.” 

“ Oh, my previous little daughter, do you 
know me ?” cried Mrs. Varney, falling on her 
knees by the bedside and kissing her fondly. 

22 * 


258 


SNOW ANGEL. 


“ To be sure I do, mamma ! That’s jolly, to 
ask me if I know you /” said Eflie, looking fondly 
in the dear face. “ The Snow-King wanted 
me to stay, but I wouldn’t — I am very 
thirsty.” 

“ Do not talk, darling — do not utter another 
word. I’ll give you the water, but you must 
not speak,” cried Mrs. Yarney. 

“ Just once more, mamma ! Where is Ela- 
kana ?” 

“Gone home,” replied Mrs. Yarney sooth- 
ingly. “ Now go to sleep — do try, darling — 
there — close your dear, dear eyes.” 

Effie did close her eyes, but she couldn’t 
sleep for a long time, for wondering where the 
“ Governor” was, and if the snow-spirits had 
come, and how she got home so quietly, and 
what made her so very tired, but at last she 
did fall asleep, and did not awake until late the 
next morning. The bed-curtain was drawn 
between her and the light, to shade her eyes, 
and those who were in her mamma’s room 
thought she still slumbered. She knew that 
Dr. Denis was there, and heard Mrs. Yane and 


SNOW ANGEL. 


259 


Mrs. Germaine engaged in a low-toned conver- 
sation. Dr. Denis was speaking to her mam- 
ma, and lie said : “ The worst is over now. 
She has no fever to-day — not a particle. But 
she must be kept quiet, and don’t let her read 
so many works of imagination when she gets 
well.” Then Effie heard a low murmuring of 
thankfulness arise around her as the old doctor 
delivered his opinion, and Mrs. Varney sat down 
on the bedside, and leaning her face down on 
the pillow, wept tear^ 1 of gratitude that the bit- 
ter trial had passed from her. Doctor Denis 
was touched deeply by Mrs. Varney’s silent 
emotion, and, being a tender-hearted man, he 
walked over to the window, where he pretended 
to blow his nose. Then Effie heard him say : “ I 
do not remember such a heavy fall of snow in 
fifty years after which he came to the bed- 
side and drew back the curtain. Effie looked 
up in his face smiling. 

“ God bless my soul ! she’s all right!” he said 
cheerfully, while he lifted his hands — his gold- 
headed cane, which he always carried, being in 


260 


SNOW ANGEL. 


his right hand — and opened his eyes wide at 
her with such a comical look, that she gave a 
little, feeble, but merry laugh. 

“ Let me feel your pulse again — there — put 
out your tongue, if you’ve got any left,” said 
the doctor. “All right. But don’t you talk. 
You’ve talked enough these two weeks to last 
you two years.” 

“ Is it snowing, doctor ?” she whispered. 

“ Snowing like the devil,” he answered, 
pleasantly. 

“Is it in time for the wheat, doctor ?” in- 
quired Mrs. Germaine. 

“ I think so, madam. I think the wheat will 
be saved.” 

“What nourishment shall Effie take, doctor?” 
inquired Mrs. Yarney. 

“ Something light, madam. Tapioca, wine- 
jelly, a few spoonfuls of cream, and the like, 
but in small quantities. She has been danger- 
ously ill, poor little woman, and we can’t be too 
careful.” 

Mrs. Yarney leaned over Effie, and, to her 


SNOW ANGEL. 


261 


great joy, the child, with a feeble effort, laid 
her arms about her neck and whispered : 
“ Have I, indeed, been very ill, darling?” 

“Yery, very ill, my precious,” replied her 
mamma, kissing her fondly. 

“ What has been the matter, Doctor Denis, 
with our little girl ?” inquired Mrs. Germaine, 
as she stood outside the door talking with the 
excellent old physician. 

“ Typhoid, madam. It has been coming on 
for weeks, from all that I can learn. She’s 
perfectly conscious now, and must be kept 
quiet. She’ll soon be up again.” * * * 

As Effie grew stronger, the Vision of the 
Snow-Angel faded away from her mind, like a 
gold-tinted mist from the morning sky. 


THE END. 





















































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